Amethyst
by Tara Walden
Summary: Didn't the gods make a promise? No more unclaimed, right? Yet here I am. Forever the exception. Forever different. Forever abandoned by the person who matters.   The title is not the character name. It's just relevant.
1. Perceptions

**The following is the author's note that I just posted earlier today: **

**Sorry that I've disappeared for so long on this story. My computer crashed and I ended up taking a break from it because all of the chapters I had were deleted entirely with no way of recovering them. I got a little discouraged about trying to redo because I make all of my important corrections on my computer, not on paper.**

**So. A few months ago, I went back and decided to start working on it again, but when I started reading through it, I was like 'This does not reflect my current style and there is so much more that I can do with this story.' I have been MIA with this for so long because I have been editing, adding, and changing quite a bit of the story.**

**I will not be moving it to a different story. I am replacing chapters straight on this one and anyone who has been reading it—I hate to inconvenience—but you should probably start back at the beginning because the fundamentals have remained but I have added a lot of details and other things into the story. I think this will improve the story and bring it to my current level of writing.**

**You will be seeing this 'new' Amethyst within the next two weeks depending upon my schedule. I actually hope to have it up by the end of this week, but I will have to see how that goes.**

**Thank you for sticking with the story despite the lack of updates and I hope that the wait has been worth it.**

**Thanks!**

**~Kanae~**

**Obviously, I got to the first chapter tonight because I really didn't want anyone to have to wait around for it, so the first chapter is here in its edited and revised form. The later chapters will follow anytime this week that I have free time. I promised I had no intentions of abandoning the story and I still have no intentions of doing so. I plan to finish this story, especially now that I think it is up to par with my current writing style.**

**Hope you enjoy. :)**

**~Kanae~**

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Chapter One: Perceptions

Camp Half-blood is a great place. For most half-bloods. I mean, just look at how good it's been for Percy …and Annabeth… and Nico, and so many others. So many profit from it. It is especially helpful to _them_, meaning half bloods in general, now that all the gods and goddesses are recognized and all their children claimed.

All except me, apparently.

I have been in the Hermes cabin for ten years. While everyone else has come to and left the Hermes cabin—one way or another—I remain. I have yet to be claimed by my parent despite the promise the gods made to Percy that they would claim _all _of their children. For whatever reason, I have been excluded.

I know what some of the campers think. Maybe I am a Hermes kid, and he just doesn't feel like claiming a kid who's already been here since she was ten. Maybe he thinks it should be obvious I am his if I've been here this long. But no. It's not that simple. It never is so simple with the gods. I know I am not a child of Hermes.

First clue, I have absolutely no desire to steal anything and am always the victim of the thefts in my cabin, not the thief (which, FYI, is almost _always_ one of the Stoll brothers). Besides, Luke's death _really _motivated Hermes. It gave him a reason, a _huge_ reason, to claim all of his children at the camp.

The very _day_ the gods promised to claim their children, Hermes claimed _all_ of his at the camp, even if he had claimed them before the promise. Not to mention, if one of his children are discovered, the split second that their big toe is inside the magical border protecting Camp Half-blood, the caduceus— his symbol— pops up over his or her head.

The point is that I still don't know whose child I am. So while everyone else talks/_brags_ about how 'awesome' their parent is and vows that they will make their parent proud, I sit alone on my bed or up in some tree in the woods with the monsters.

At least the monsters will come right up to you and rip out your heart.

What makes it worse is that I know many campers kind of pity me in some way. Everyone in the camp knows I'm unclaimed. As a result, I have several people that simply try to talk to me because they don't want me to feel excluded or ostracized.

A prime example of this is that Percy and Annabeth find it necessary to chat with me every now and then, when they aren't too busy arguing with each other, which, albeit, is quite the rare occasion. Sometimes even Clarisse and Chris sit and talk with me, though the girlfriend-boyfriend dynamic limits this greatly as well.

Thank the gods for my friends. Theia Palmer, a daughter of Apollo, and Travis Stoll, son of Hermes, are my best and closest friends. They make camp bearable. Out of everyone, they try the hardest to treat me normally. Sure, there are sometimes pitying looks when they think I'm not paying attention, but they try their hardest not to let me see it. They know how much I hate pity. Besides, unlike all those others, I know that no matter whether I die unclaimed or not, they will still be my friends.

Honestly, I suppose camp has been a blessing for me in some regards. I had never really had any good friends before I came to camp. I had been abandoned as a baby and sent to an orphanage. Because of this, I don't even know _which_ of my parents is an Olympian.

Nonetheless, I guess I should be _somewhat_ grateful. I would probably have stayed in that awful orphanage until I was eighteen if it hadn't been for a horrifying, yet fortunate event before I came here.

Mrs. Stevens, the bitter old woman who ran the orphanage, had sent me to run an errand. Sending a nine-year-old out into the 'cold, unforgiving streets' of NYC, crazy, right? But that old hag wouldn't have cared if I never came back to the orphanage. She probably wouldn't even have filed a missing persons report. She hated me. End of story.

There I was on my way back to the accursed orphanage when I had to cross a certain street. Well, the little walking man had turned green and I started walking across the street. Of course, just as I got halfway across, some _maniac _whipped around the corner and was headed straight for me at high speed, much higher than the speed limit, in a bright red Mustang.

Strangely, the one thing that registered at the time was that the driver had long hair that covered one eye. Not just covering an eye. Covering his only eye.

Weird, right? Not even. I saw things like that all the time. People with one eye, people with multiple sets of eyes, even some people with no eyes. I had learned early on not to dwell upon or question it. All I had known was that, for some crazy reason, I could see more than most people could.

When we kids at the orphanage would get a day on the playground, I was the only one that didn't play, because I saw the monsters there. Waiting, lurking. And when they realized that I saw them for what they really were, they usually left, but sometimes it put me in a situation where I had to protect the other kids, especially the younger ones. Looking back, I have no doubt that, had I not been there a few of those times, things could have ended badly.

But in-between my insight of today and my ignorance of then, it got me bullied and labeled as a freak. That's one reason why the old hag thought I was crazy.

The other reason I didn't dwell on it then was probably because I was somewhat preoccupied at the time with the car speeding toward me.

By the time the idiot looked up and it finally registered in my mind that the car was coming straight at me, nothing could be done on either of our parts. He had no time to brake and there was no way on this planet or any other that I would be able to jump out of the way at this point. Nothing could save me.

I vaguely remember clamping my eyes shut, spinning around with my back to the vehicle, and dropping into the fetal position while lifting my arms in an attempt to protect my head.

Dropping down in front of a car speeding towards you with no time to brake is not the smartest move, I know; but I was a terrified nine-year-old. It was a _perfectly _legitimate reaction to knowing that the speeding car would bring a premature end to my short but miserable existence.

I could feel the car hit me, and I braced myself for my demise with every bone in my body shattered. Vital crimson would repaint the NYC street for a few hours while the police investigated— they wouldn't discover what the driver was or what had _really_ happened— and then I would be forgotten and washed away. No one would miss me. No one would mourn Nakita, the orphan girl with no last name. No one.

Then, after a few moments, I was still there. I was still breathing. I knew that the car had hit me. I had felt the full weight of the car impact. It was then that I realized that I could also feel the cold metal wrapped around my shoulders. Yes, _wrapped_.

When I finally worked up the courage to open my eyes, I saw that the front of the car was indeed bent around my small shoulders, and I was sure that, if I moved, there would be a me-size indent in the front of the car.

Smoke was everywhere. Before I was even able to sort out what had happened, a van door was thrown open and out of it jumped a tall guy who looked to be in his mid-twenties.

As he bailed out and approached the car, he had an angry, horrified look on his face and I could hear him yelling at the driver… in another language… that I had _never_ heard before… Yet somehow understood.

"Αυτό που είναι το πρόβλημά σας? Είστε τυφλοί? Πώς μπορέσατε να μην δείτε εκείνο το κορίτσι, εσείς ηλίθιος?" he yelled.

I was sure that this would have sounded like gibberish to most of the people standing in horror unable to see the 'tragedy' from the sidewalks. But I knew what he had said, "What is your problem? Are you blind? How could you not see that girl, you idiot?"

Then he came around the front of the car and paused mid-step. Even then, I had oddly thought that he looked frozen in place like those Greek statues I had always seen in the museums.

And me? Well, I probably looked rather freaked out as I met his eyes. Yeah, nine-year-old hit by a car… and still alive. I could see my shock mirrored perfectly on his face…. Which had way more than two eyes on it…

After a moment, the window rolled down on the van from which the blond man had bailed out, and I saw a middle-aged man with curly brown hair and a scruffy beard. Even in my stunned state I couldn't help but notice the aura of ancient wisdom he seemed to emanate. It was as if he had lived an eternity and had gathered so much wisdom and knowledge that he could be a walking library.

"Quickly, Argus. Get her in the van before the smoke clears," he had commanded the man with whom I had been in a staring contest.

The older man's voice must have snapped the other out of his trance because he immediately looked to the man and nodded.

The blond man, Argus, then looked at me curiously, almost as if he were unsure of what to do next. Finally, he seemed to decide and knelt down.

"Don't worry. Not gonna hurt you," he said as he picked me up bridal style.

I know. Some random stranger picks you up to put you in a vehicle to take you to who knows where and do who knows what. You're supposed to kick and scratch and scream bloody murder, right?

I didn't.

A hushed voice in the back of my mind told me that it would be okay. That I would be okay.

I had heard this voice ever since I was a little girl. That was just another reason why Mrs. Stevens thought that I was crazy and the reason I went to the shrink every month, but I don't care. I would trust that voice with my life. I _have_ trusted that voice with my life, and not once has it ever told me wrong.

So when Argus stood up with me in his arms, kicked a man hole cover into the front of the car hard enough that my indent was gone, and walked over to the van still carrying me, I did nothing. Strangely, as I had absent-mindedly twirled the amethyst bracelet on my wrist—which had been with me since I was left at the orphanage—I believed that soft voice in the back of my mind. I allowed Argus to put me in the vehicle with the older man.

Without a moment's delay, once I was completely inside, the door was shut, and the man with the curly brown hair, whom I realized was in a wheel chair, was in front of me.

For a moment, he simply looked at me with hazel eyes that seemed to penetrate through to my very heart and soul. He seemed as though he was examining me, reading my thoughts, my life story, possibly even my future for all I knew.

I have to admit it had been rather unnerving, not to mention the initial silence that had enveloped us, but then he began asking me questions such as, 'Who are your parents?' and 'Where do you live?' to which I answered, 'Don't know' and 'At an orphanage.' This seemed to surprise him slightly, and he got this look on his face that had suddenly made me wonder how old he truly was. Surely he must be older than he appears…

Not a second later, Argus opened the driver side door and sat down, closing the door quickly behind him. The man turned back, once more giving me a view of his multiple eyes. To be honest, it was kind of trippy. I was used to many strange sights, but the fact that most of his eyes were focused on me was more than a little unsettling.

The blond man seemed oblivious to my discomfort and inquired as to where I lived and how to get there. Upon receiving my answer, he seemed surprised and glanced at the man in the wheelchair, but he said nothing and started driving.

The man in the wheelchair continued talking to me normally, as if I hadn't just been hit head on by a speeding car and left the scene unscathed. Apparently, what he had seen didn't faze him in the slightest. A part of me at that time wondered why it didn't, but as usual, I didn't dwell on the thought.

On the drive back, he had continued asking me questions such as 'How old are you?', 'How long have you been at the orphanage?' and several other questions that, at the time, just seemed like he was trying to make the ride back less awkward and uncomfortable for me. Of course, now I know that, while that may have been part of the reason, there was a more important reason for the line of questioning he chose.

I answered each of his questions to the best of my ability, but there were a few that I wasn't sure about how I should answer.

'How many schools have you attended?', 'What grades do you make?', 'Are you dyslexic?' Questions like that threw me off a little. It was almost as if he knew I had problems in school. Should I tell him that I've gone to six different schools? Should I tell him that I generally make straight Cs? Should I tell him that, yes, I am dyslexic and have ADHD?

After a few moments of internal debate with each of those questions, I ended up telling him the truth anyway. Somehow I knew that, even if I lied to him, he would know I was lying and be disappointed that I hadn't told him the truth. For some reason, lying to him—disappointing him— were things I did not want to do.

Following what seemed like a very short span of time, we arrived at the orphanage. To be perfectly honest, it made me a little sad. I really liked talking to the man. Whether it was pretense or not, he actually seemed happy to give me the time of day. The idea that someone might enjoy talking with me and listening to me was a novel idea in my mind.

Typically, it was all I could do to have someone listen to me for a few minutes, but this man had talked to me and continued the conversation for well over thirty minutes. That was an unprecedented amount of time. The prospect of returning to the orphanage and being neglected again was not one to which I looked forward.

Nevertheless, we had gotten there in record time, and, despite Argus' crazy driving, we hadn't hit a single car. It was at that point where I exited the vehicle and was surprised when the man in the wheelchair told Argus to help him out of the van as well. The blond man with the multiple eyes got out and came around the van and went into, what I would guess was, the usual routine of pulling the ramp out and so on.

As soon as all of this had been done, the man in the wheelchair followed me to the door of the orphanage while Argus stayed outside in the van. I reached the entrance into the orphanage first and opened the door for him because I thought that was the only polite thing to do, but he thanked me and gave me a smile that seemed as though my action was not one he was accustomed to from younger people.

Once we were inside, he asked to talk to Mrs. Stevens, whom I'd told him about during the drive there. I really wasn't anxious to see the nasty old woman again, but the man had been nice to me and he wanted to talk to her for whatever reason, so I went and got the old hag.

She wasn't happy about being interrupted from her soaps and didn't cooperate with me until I said there was a man in the entrance hall wanting to speak to her about something. Considering her general hatred of me, she probably assumed that I had stolen his wallet or busted a window out of his car, but either way, she got up quickly and went to meet him.

When she introduced herself to the man, he did the same, saying his name was Mr. Brunner. He then had gone on to say that he was interested in adopting a child. Hag Lady, as I called her, sent me away and they went into her office, but as soon as the door shut, I was there, ear to the worn wood of the door, eavesdropping.

I had done that ever since I was little. I always wanted to know which of the kids would be lucky enough to get a home. Not if I would be, but if someone else here would. When I was younger I had always hoped to be adopted, but due to several of my medical and mental conditions, I never had been. Eventually, I gave up. Of course my conditions never went away, but when I got older the problem was that even though I wasn't a teen yet, I was over the unofficial adoption age. Not many couples ever wanted to adopt a kid during that stage of life, and thus I had more or less settled on just leaving the orphanage when I was eighteen.

Imagine my surprise when, upon Hag Lady asking him if he had any ideas as to what he was looking for, things like similar physical characteristics and whatnot, he asked about me. He said that I seemed very nice.

I almost went into shock.

Me? I could have been knocked over with a feather. That's how unbelievable it was to be asked about at my age. My hopes soared higher than they ever had at the thought.

Of course, then I remembered that what Hag Lady said next would change his mind, which very quickly brought me crashing back to reality.

She said something to the effect of,

"Are you sure you wish to adopt her? She has several… Um… Disabilities. She has insomnia. She is also a diagnosed dyslexic and has ADHD. Not to mention something is wrong with her. She's always seeing things that aren't there, going into 'trances', and talking to herself. At first, I thought she just had some imaginary friends but she still talks to… whatever it is she talks to when she thinks no one else is there. We have plenty of other children who are just as nice if not more so."

What he said next, I still remember word for word, because it impacted me so much.

"Mrs. Stevens. Sometimes, what the average person perceives as strange or eccentric or a disability is, in a reality high above their own understanding, a gift. I see beyond these perceptions and into the truth, the true beauty and strength of the human soul, of people in general. That child, I perceive, is truly gifted in ways that are beyond your understanding. I wish to adopt _her_."

Now obviously, I was standing outside the door wide-eyed and in disbelief. All I can remember having thought is _Why would he want to adopt me?... After everything Hag Lady said?... Why?_

I stumbled back to my cot as if in a trance. He had spoken so highly of me, defended me. That was more than anyone had ever done for me in my nine years of life. He had seemed convinced that I was special. What he had said made me feel for the first time in a small eternity that I meant something in the grand scheme of things, that, for whatever reason, I was of some value.

Looking back and realizing that my self-esteem had been so low at nine as to believe that I was a waste of space should really be a testament to what being abandoned and living in an orphanage will do to someone, and that's assuming that they're perfectly normal. Unfortunately, I also had conditions and disorders that made orphanage life without anyone to care for me even more difficult.

Again, though, hindsight is 20/20. At the time, the notions brought to my mind, courtesy of the kind older man, were so fantastical that I had convinced myself it was all nothing but a dream. Yes, that was the only logical explanation. I had dreamt the accident, the man with the multiple eyes, and—most of all—I had dreamt Mr. Brunner.

As I laid down on my bed, the news reporter on the TV told of an accident where, due to some freak occurrence, a man hole cover had burst open and hit a car. I knew that wasn't what had happened, but for some reason, no one else did. Oddly enough, one of the few things I remember of that was wondering why that was. Why did I see what had happened clearly, yet even the people who saw me get hit by the car didn't seem to remember?

My mind kept running in circles, trying to find answers, but none came. Eventually, the day's events caught up to me, and I had curled up and gone to sleep, certain that waking up the next day would prove I was dreaming.

However, a year later, Argus was driving the van toward the camp and Mr. Brunner, whose name he revealed is really Chiron—yes, as in Chiron the immortal trainer of heroes— explained to me who I am and told me about Camp Half-blood.

Now, even when I was younger, despite my dyslexia, I would struggle through reading any and all Greek mythology I could get my hands on. _Antigone_, _the Iliad_, the_ Odyssey_, and many, many others were what I read from the first I was introduced to them. I had whole volumes of books in my "room" where I had done little jobs after school and gotten money to buy them. Some of them were even gifts from teachers at school who noticed how interested I was in Greek mythology. I guess they thought that holding my interest in one study was better than never having it at all, and so the kinder ones tried to encourage my reading.

Truthfully, I always felt more at home lost in the pages of my _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ hardback book than I did at school or anywhere in the "_real_" world. Sometimes, I had even pretended to be some of the very heroes about which I read. The fact that most of those heroes were not female did not deter me because after realizing this, I began to create my own heroes. It was probably this very passion for Greek mythology and the heroes found therein that kept me sane, kept me learning, made me keep trying no matter how small the odds. The heroes of Greek myth never gave up, why should I do so?

Needless to say, being told that I was a demigod and that everything I had read about was real produced quite a different reaction than I think the ancient trainer of heroes had ever seen before or was expecting.

I was happy. I was happy that the only world with which I'd ever really felt comfortable was the real, existing world. Of course, I realized that this would mean danger for me—after all, not many of the demigods in the myths had happy endings—but I didn't care. Finally, I knew why I could see some of the things I could, why I had the "disabilities" I did, and why I always seemed to get attacked by random strangers. I wasn't just some freak. I was a demigod freak, and that fact alone made all the difference.

After he got over my initial, unexpected reaction, he told me that once at camp, my Olympian parent should claim me, but until then, I would reside in the Hermes cabin.

The Hermes cabin, being dedicated to the patron god of travelers, had the duty of taking in demigods who were unclaimed when they arrived at camp. The campers would stay there until which time their Olympian parent saw fit to claim them, and then they would move into the cabin for their parent.

Chiron told me that sometimes this took days, other times months. When we arrived at camp and I was put in the Hermes cabin, the older campers told me sometimes it never did happen. Sometimes a demigod would remain unclaimed for as long as they were at camp, which, usually, was as long as they were alive. Most demigods don't do well out of camp unless they are the child of a minor god or goddess, in which case, they aren't typically as strong and can escape the notice of monsters.

Whereas this low probability of being claimed might have depressed some campers, even the possibility of being claimed by a _parent_ was more than I had ever had, ever even thought of having. To think that my parent might claim me was a huge step up from the orphanage.

The first few weeks, I had patiently, yet hopefully waited to be claimed. Some nights after everyone else would be asleep in the cabin, I would pray that my parent would claim me. The next few months, I grew doubtful. Finally, years passed and day by day, I lost hope little by little until finally I just gave up on ever being claimed, just as I had on ever being adopted.

By the time Percy Jackson arrived and the Second Titan War had begun, I was close to seventeen or eighteen and considered by many people to be a prime suspect for being one of the spies.

Often when I would walk around camp, people would stop talking entirely or glare at me. My unclaimed status promoted me to a threat in most of the other campers' eyes. They figured that I was one of the ones with the most to hate about Olympus.

The only people who didn't even consider it were Chiron, Travis, Connor, Theia and Argus. They knew that, despite my situation, I would never betray Olympus or my few friends and 'family' at Camp Half-Blood. I simply wouldn't.

When the war finally ended and we had won, it seemed things were looking up. The gods had told Percy he could have anything he wanted due to his having saved Olympus and everything. He told them that he wanted them to promise to claim all their children by age thirteen. After a little debate, they agreed to his request.

For the first time in a while, I was hopeful again, but that quickly faded. As everyone else was claimed, I remained in the Hermes cabin, unclaimed.

And here I still sit—ten years since I arrived— in the Hermes cabin… Well, currently on the roof of the Hermes cabin hiding from the world so that I can think freely and uninterrupted for once…

But that's not the point. The point is, I'm just as parentless now as I was in the orphanage, except now I know it's because my parent just doesn't care.

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**This first chapter didn't need a WHOLE lot of re-write, but it did require some and I think it flows much better now than it did. **

**I hope that I can get the other chapters corrected shortly and get them posted. ^_^**

**~Kanae~**


	2. Aw Naw She Di'n't

**I promised the next chapter would be up soon. Here it is. :)**

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**Chapter Two: Awh Naw She Di'n't**

"Nakita!" comes a loud, yet not offensive, voice. In fact, even bellowing, her voice is almost melodic. Kinda weird but cool at the same time.

"Nakita! Where are you?" joins another voice, this one male.

Clearly, I had been 'missing' much longer than I thought. I almost feel bad, but then again, they should know that the first place to look for me is up on the roof of the Hermes cabin. This is where I am nine times out of ten, after all. It's like my own secret hideout where I can be alone with my thoughts. There aren't many places left at Camp Half Blood where one can do that anymore, what with the influx of campers.

I'm almost torn between staying up here on the quiet peaceful roof and going down, but upon hearing their calls grow increasingly more worried, I make up my mind. I won't worry the two best friends I've ever had.

Standing, I use a neighboring tree to quickly climb down from the roof. Sadly, halfway down, my foot slips and I fall in a most undignified manner on my buttocks, thoroughly startling the two people searching for me. After a moment of shock, one of them rushes over, while the other one starts laughing. In fact, he's laughing so hard, he ends up doubling over and then falling on his butt. Serves him right.

"Are you okay?" my friend's lyrical voice questions as she hauls me to my feet. She may be sixteen and I look clear over her head at her height of 5'6", but she sure is stronger than your average sixteen-year-old.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," I say, shrugging her hand off my arm.

Quite frankly, I've always been kind of touchy. I don't like people touching me unless it's necessary, like bandaging a wound, but even then, I only trust certain people. It's not like there's any reason for this; it's just one of my weird behaviors, I guess.

"You almost weren't if you'd fallen from any higher. I may be a child of Apollo, but I'm not healing you if you break your neck over your own stupidity!" she yells slapping my arm. In case anyone is wondering, she slaps harder than the average sixteen-year-old, too.

"Jeez, Theia! Maybe you shoulda been a daughter of Ares instead," quips my other friend, a tall brown-haired boy. He saunters over and inspects my arm that now sports a stop sign red hand mark. "That's showing up through her tan… How hard did you hit her?"

"My safety and well-being wasn't your top priority earlier when you were too busy laughing to see if I was okay. At least Theia asked about me first _then_ hit me," I reply, shrugging off his hand this time.

He smirks devilishly, mischievousness and laughter filling his brown eyes.

"I couldn't help it! The look on your face was just so _priceless_!"

"STOLLS!" bellows a very angry voice sounding suspiciously like a very angry Clarisse. 'Very angry' being the key words.

At this, the grin falls from his face, and he looks like he might have a heart attack.

"Speaking of daughter of Ares…" Theia smirks. She loves tormenting Travis. They're always poking fun at one another, and exchanging witty one liners.

I sigh, "Travis… I know I'm gonna regret asking this… But what did you do _this_ time?"

"Well, Connor and I might have done _Trading Spaces_ with the Ares and Aphrodite cabin…."

"Travis!" I hiss as I try my hardest not to laugh picturing the look on Clarisse's face when she walked into her cabin after that kind of swap.

"What?" he exclaims defensively. "We just figured that since Ares and Aphrodite like each other so much, maybe their kids would like to…. swap spaces…."

I execute a perfect face-palm maneuver, then look back up and Gibbs-slap him. Gotta love Gibbs. He's brilliant. And NCIS? Best show _ever_.

"OW! What was that for?" he yelps, one hand going to the back of his head.

"You're gonna get much, much worse than that if _they_ catch you."

"Who're you more scared of?" Theia asks, still grinning, now rather sadistically. "The Ares cabin, or the _Aphrodite_ cabin?"

In that exact moment, all color whatsoever drains from his normally tan face, "I didn't think about that…. Kita," he whines, using the nickname he had given for me. "You gotta help me!"

"Why?" I ask. "You and Connor created this monster."

"Please! Clarisse and her minions will tear me limb from limb… And then the Aphrodite cabin will put make up on me again!"

Theia and I both raise an eyebrow at his logic, limb-tearing then makeup. Really? But he's using that _look_ on me again and I cave. I don't know who taught him that trick, but he learned it much too well.

"Alright. Alright. Fine. But what about Connor?"

"He's probably already hiding," Travis frowns.

"True," Theia says as we hear thundering footsteps, swords being drawn, and electricity crackling, probably from Clarisse's staff.

"They're almost here!" Travis whimpers, holding my hand like a child despite being almost twenty-three years old. I'm honestly not sure what exactly is wrong with him… "!"

I sigh again, "Okay. Okay. Theia—"

"Yeah, yeah… I'll try to distract them," she answers with practiced certainty.

Obviously, this happens a lot… More than it should… I suppose that's what I get for befriending one of Hermes' most mischievous children…

"Come on!" he urges, pulling gently on my hand.

"Alright. Let's go," I say as I grasp his hand tightly and start running towards the woods. "Really, Travis. We shouldn't have to do this once a week."

"Why can't anyone take a joke? It was just Barbies!… And Barbie bedclothes…. And we may have swapped the Aphrodite and Ares campers' clothes… But seriously!"

I roll my eyes, "You just better hope Connor's already hiding."

I don't look back, but I know him well enough to know he's scowling.

"He will be. I haven't seen him. He was helping Theia and I look for you but he 'vanished'. He coulda at least warned me, the little traitor. I hope they catch him."

"_You're_ gonna get caught if you don't run faster."

"Well, sorry. It's not my fault you run like a deer. I'm having a hard time keeping my footing with all these leaves and mud! It rained last night!"

"Boo hoo."

"Well, it's true!"

Upon this statement, we hear the battle cry of the Ares kids and, amazingly, we both discover that he really can pick up his pace if properly motivated.

As we crash through the woods, I can't help but wonder where we'll hide this time. Travis is easily six foot now, and I'm only a few inches shorter. That kinda limits hiding spots.

I hate being tall. Everyone's always staring at you. It's very uncomfortable… Not to mention situations like this, which I seem to be getting thrown into more and more frequently…

"Travis?"

"Y-yeah?" he responds, sounding somewhat, okay, _very_ out of breath.

"How close do they sound?"

"Hard to tell…. But… They're not that far off."

"Wonderful…"

As we run through yet another 'layer' of trees, we reach a rock wall. Clearly, we have no choice but to stop and I realize we must've gone really deeply into the woods… And the sun is setting…. Just terrific… We either face the Ares cabin, or get eaten by monsters… At least with the monsters it would be over quickly, I suppose…

"Where do we go now?" Travis asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Well…" I wrack my brain, trying to think of something, some plan.

And then I remember the hidden place.

It was a hidden, subterranean room in the woods. I'd stumbled across it once around this general area. Near as I could tell, it had been made as a hideout for demigods way back, possibly during Prohibition, who wanted to hang out after curfew _without_ being eaten…

"Well?" Travis repeats impatiently.

"This way," I answer finally as I start running, practically dragging the _poor,_ _unfortunate_ soul who had gotten himself, and—consequently— me, into this mess.

After a few wrong guesses, I finally find the 'fake ground', which is really the entrance to the room. It's kind of like those old-fashioned basements where the door is in the ground. When I find the border of the hatch, I open it, shove Travis into it, look around warily, and then jump down.

It is upon the hatch fully shutting behind me that I realize how dark it really is in this secret room. I very quickly start focusing on not freaking out… Or crying. Yes, crying would be bad, not to mention _extraordinarily_ embarrassing.

Ever since I was little, I have _hated _the dark. Even now I hate the dark. I hate it with a passion, but my fear _of_ it easily overcomes my hate _for_ it.

When I had lived at the orphanage, I couldn't sleep if there wasn't a light on somewhere in the room. Things _moved_ in the dark when you could see beyond the Mist. Big, scary things. The exact reason I scoot a little closer to Travis.

There's also the fact that there is absolutely no sound other than the two of us breathing. _That_ is freaky and just plain unnatural. It is perfectly silent. Horribly silent. Nothing good ever comes of the dark quiet. Even the Greeks knew that. That's why the Greek women told Medea to come outside into the light…. Though, I doubt they knew that Medea would kill her own children just to get back at her husband… Which only proves my point: People go crazy in the dark.

The silence is thick, suffocating almost, and the dark isn't much better… So imagine my utter shock and horror when the whole Ares cabin runs noisily over the thin layer between them and us.

I jump and barely suppress a blood-curling scream.

_Remain calm. Sure it's dark and that noise just came out of nowhere, but that is no reason whatsoever to have a coronary. _I tell myself.

A few seconds later, the Ares campers' yelling fades off and it is once again silent until…

"I think they're gone now," Travis whispers right in my ear.

In all honesty, I jump. I didn't realize he was so close.

"…Do you think you can release the death grip on my arm now? And maybe scoot over a little? You're almost on my lap, Kita..."

Funny. I don't remember willing my hands to move and my nails to leave crescent-shaped scars on Travis' arm. Bad hands and nails. And I _certainly_ don't remember telling myself it was okay to practically sit on Travis. Bad self.

I quickly remove my 'death grip', move away from Travis a little, and clasp my hands firmly in my lap.

But I say nothing in response to him, because, I know if I open my mouth, the scream I have been so desperately trying to hold in will escape. Things are still moving in the darkness.

"Oh. That's right," he mutters under his breath from beside me as if just remembering something.

Shuffling noises and then a light appearing, banishing the darkness to further corners of the room, immediately follow this statement. In a pitch black underground room, Travis had managed to find a flashlight within the bottomless depths of his backpack.

"There. Is that better?" he asks, truly sounding concerned as he places his free hand on my shoulder.

I hope the blush spreading up to my scalp isn't all that noticeable in the now somewhat illuminated darkness. Travis is one of only four people who know about my scotophobia, also known as fear of the dark.

I force myself to take a few deep breaths. I then put on an act to pretend that I'm fine, "You carry a flashlight around in your backpack?"

He knows I'm changing the subject, of course, but we've been friends for a long time. The second titan war makes it seem like it's been even longer. He and I had fought side by side when we had defended Manhattan. Being in situations like that, it makes people even closer than they would have been otherwise, no matter how long they've been friends. We all know each other as we know ourselves, and we all have a kind of bond that only people who have fought together have.

Travis generally respects that and doesn't try to push me into talking about things which I don't want or feel like discussing at the moment.

Therefore, instead of pushing me, he simply shrugs and smirks, "I am a child of Hermes, after all. I pack well."

I smile back, grateful I had made such a wise choice for a friend.

"Yeah. But isn't the whole 'child of Hermes' bit why we're down here to begin with?"

He rolls his eyes, "Details. Details."

"A-huh. Sure. Big details."

"Yeah, yeah," he smirks before holding the flashlight out to me. "Here, hold this, I need to look for something."

I take the flashlight and he immediately begins to rifle through his backpack as I hear a metallic '_**clank**_', I'm suddenly curious as to what he carries in there.

A moment later, he brings out a small, rectangular electronic device that looks suspiciously like—

"A cell phone? What are you doing with a cell phone? Are you crazy?" I hear myself exclaim, my voice almost an octave higher than normal.

"Shh!" Travis warns as he pushes a few buttons rapidly. "I'm texting Connor to make sure he's okay."

" You're not even supposed to be using that!"

"_No_. You're not supposed to _talk_ into them. Texting's okay though."

"Did Chiron say it was okay?" I ask skeptically.

"Well… Not exactly…"

"Not exactly?"

"Well… He doesn't exactly… Doesn't know about them…"

"He doesn't know?"

"No. He doesn't," he answers, returning the phone to his backpack.

"And Connor has one, too! Great, you and Connor are going to get everyone killed because you're using cell phones."

"We will not!" he yells, clearly upset about something more than just the cell phones. "Just shut up. You don't know anything."

I open my mouth to say something in response, but stop myself. My doing so makes an awkward silence descend upon the room like snow in the Alps.

It takes me a few moments into the silence to realize the problem. Why Travis had overreacted so badly. One name.

Luke.

"Travis…" I begin, "I'm sorry… I didn't meant to—"

"It's fine. It wasn't your fault. I just…." he pauses, sighing heavily. "Ever since Luke first betrayed the camp, everyone assumed that Connor and I were spies. They thought we wanted to kill everyone, too, just because…"

"You had looked up to him," I supply for him.

"Yeah," he says, and suddenly a fiery light appears in his eyes. "I mean, he was our _brother_. Of course we had looked up to him. He was amazing. Everyone in the camp looked up to him… But then, when he betrayed us, there were all those whispers when no one thought we were listening, or just didn't care if we heard... It's still… difficult sometimes…." he finishes, the spark dimming again as he leans back against the wall.

"I can't imagine."

"No. You can't," he replies, looking down with a hurt expression on his face.

I had spoken the truth when I had said that I couldn't imagine what it was like, being betrayed by a brother. I couldn't even imagine him or Theia or Connor or any of my other small group of friends gossiping about me to the Aphrodite cabin. Forget becoming a minion to the titans and a body for Kronos.

I just stare at him for a moment, more than a little unsure of what I can do to make him feel better.

I had only seen him get like this two or three times, most of which were during the war after the Hermes cabin lost someone. I doubt that even Connor had seen him like this but a few times. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, Travis and Connor are upbeat and friendly and enthusiastic with a touch of mischievousness. That sometimes makes people forget that they aren't Superman. They can and _do_ hurt just like everyone else.

Before I can even think about it, my arm decides for itself to go around his shoulders in a kind of one-armed hug. He looks up at me, clearly somewhat surprised, and then he smirks again, trying to lighten things up.

"So's this mean we're going steady?" he asks, a crooked grin spreading over his face.

I accidently shove him hard enough that he falls over on his side, but he starts laughing so he can't be _too_ hurt.

"You wish, Travis. You _wish_."

He keeps laughing as he sits up, rubbing the shoulder on which he'd fallen over.

"Y'know… I don't know why I hang out with you. You're always trying to kill me or something."

"Yeah well—"

"Travis! Nakita!" calls a voice from above us. We both recognize it to be Theia, but the next voice only I recognize.

"Nakita! Where are you?" the voice bellows.

"Who's that?" Travis asks before paling. "Not an Ares is it?"

"No. Not an Ares. Her name's Ava. Ava McAllen. She's a child of Dionysus."

"Seriously?" he questions, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Yeah, but she gets her looks from her mom, thankfully for her and everyone else."

At this, he cracks up again, laughing like a maniac.

I have to admit, it is a _very_ good thing that Ava takes after her mother. I don't think the camp can take much more leopard print _anything_.

"Travis! I can hear you laughing, but I can't see either of you. If this is some joke you two have worked up, I'm gonna kill both of you. It's not funny!" Theia threatens, but I can tell she's just upset.

Whenever she gets upset, she gets 'angry'. It's not really anger. She just doesn't know how to express worry extraordinarily well. She can sometimes, she just doesn't for the most part.

"Seriously guys! Come out! It's dinnertime!" Ava shouts.

"They're probably worried," I say, stating the obvious.

"Yeah… We better go."

He reaches up and opens the hatch and lets me get out first. The exact moment I look up from stepping out onto the ground, I come face to face with the most dangerous creature currently in the woods.

The extraordinarily enraged Theia.

"Where were you? We've been searching the entire wood for you!"

Before I can even produce the answer, Travis hoists himself out of the room and stands.

Even with nothing but the light emitting from the flashlight in my hand, I see Ava's eyes widen comically. Her expression is somewhere between a mix of horrified and shocked.

"What were you two doing down there?" she asks, clearly not sure whether she wants to know the answer or not.

"What're you tal—" I start then stop abruptly as it dawns on me. I am a girl. Travis is a guy. We were both alone in an underground room. We had gone running through the woods and probably didn't look our best at the moment.

My face heats up and I know it just turned the darkest shade of red imaginable to man or Olympian. Travis and Theia both manage to get their wits about them long enough to give her the 'Awh naw you di'n't jus' ask that' look.

"Nothing happened!" Travis exclaims, seeing that I have temporarily lost my ability to speak. "Why would you even _say_ something like that?"

"Well, y'know. What was I supposed to think?" she asks, a hand coming up to rest on her hip. "Theia came and got me, didn't tell me _anything _except that we needed to find you two. Then we find you and you both look like... Well…."

She is unable to finish as she blushes, too. I guess I can't blame her too much, keeping in mind who her father is…

Theia's face isn't much better than mine or Ava's as she says, "Yeah… I suppose that _was_ my bad… I didn't think about it like that…"

"So if you weren't…. well…Y'know…. What _were_ you doing?"

"Not that it's any of _your_ business, but we were hiding from the Ares cabin," Travis snaps indignantly.

Travis is one of my best friends. Just the thought of what Ava had implied leaves me quite stunned…

"Oh… That makes more sense…"

"Whatever," Theia sighs. "We need to get back to camp. It's dinnertime. For us and whatever's in here…"

Without even thinking about it, my grip tightens on the flashlight, as though it will protect me. Then, even in my dazed state realizing it won't, I involuntarily step closer to Travis, who takes one look at me and shakes his head, his mop of brown hair falling down in his eyes. He pushes it back in place and looks at me again.

"Yeah. Let's go," he says.

He ends up throwing one last 'I- cannot-believe-you-implied-that' look at Ava before grabbing my arm and beginning to lead me forward. As my feet start walking and I come back to my senses, I try to keep up with Travis.

Not far behind us, I barely hear Theia mutter threateningly,

"Don't ever imply or say something like that ever again. If _Travis_ doesn't end you, I _will_."

* * *

**The major changes haven't come in yet, but just wait. ^_~**

**~Kanae~**


	3. Perfect Paradox

**Here is the third edited chapter. :)**

* * *

Chapter Three: Perfect Paradox

Travis and I had to sprint back to the Hermes cabin to clean up, but we didn't have much time to do anything but fix our hair and straighten up our clothes by removing leaves and whatnot. A quick look in the mirror assures me I don't look terrible. I don't look _great _mind you, but I look at least slightly presentable now.

Travis and I meet Theia as she is leaving her cabin and then we all head to the dining pavilion together. We arrive in no time and see that just about everyone else is already seated, each camper at the table designated for their parent's children.

Needless to say, Percy's promise from the Olympians had meant more tables had to be made, just like there had to be more cabins built. The pavilion now looks more like a labyrinth than the quiet place of eating it had been prior to the war.

Theia breaks away from our small group to go to the Apollo table while Travis and I continue our walk to the Hermes table. On our way weaving through the jumbled chaos, we pass by Argus who nods to me and upturns one corner of his mouth in a closed-mouth, nonverbal, 'Hello.'

"Hello, Argus," I smile as I walk by him and sit at the table.

Argus seems tough, and believe me, he is— he's kicked my demigod butt on multiple occasions during training— but he's not mean or anything like some campers think. In fact, he's actually pretty nice. Not to mention he would die to protect anyone here at camp, even the Hermes cabin and the campers that mock him. The former of which actually has two reasons why it's incredible that he protects them.

A.) They are a large part of the group that mocks him, and B.) Their dad, Hermes, kinda killed him a long time ago. Of course, he regenerated like all 'monsters', but there's still some bad blood there. Not that I can really blame him. I guess I wouldn't like getting killed too much either…

Anyway, other than Chiron and Annabeth, I'm really the only one who will talk to him as a person and not as the hundred-eyed security guard for the camp. Well, Theia talks to him, too, but only if I or Chiron are there. He scares her a little, though, she'd never admit that to anyone. Not even me. I can just read her really well.

As I sit down, my attention is suddenly drawn from my silent friend to the plump figure in a leopard print sweat suit working his way to the front of the pavilion. Once reaching his destination, he grimaces.

"Alright, you brats. Settle down. This is dinnertime, _not_ a circus… Although I would gladly send all of you to one. That's where you all belong anyway…"

"Mr. D," prompts the man beside him. Well… Man isn't exactly accurate. Centaur would be the correct term; Chiron would be the specific term.

"Yes, well. While you are all stuffing your faces, don't forget to thank your parents, you ingrates."

And on that cheerful note, he storms off. I'm not being sarcastic either. For Mr. D, that was borderline jovial. I would clap for him, but I restrain myself so killer grapevines that sprout out of nothingness won't eat me.

"Yes," coughs Chiron, stepping up to where Mr. D had just given his positively rousing speech. "May you all eat well and quickly, for the Apollo cabin has been preparing a special play for you tonight."

At this, there are some shouts of joy and some frustrated sighs.

"Wonder what it'll be this time_. Pride and Prejudice_? I mean, seriously. Last month it was _Beauty and the Beast_. Talk about stupid. The Apollo kids are so gay, just like their dad," a boy snickers at the end of the Hermes table.

I turn to glare at him, trying desperately to remember his name.

"Look _Marcus_ _Antony_. Unless you want to end up like your namesake, I'd shut up. One of the 'gay Apollo kids' is a close friend of mine. Not to mention that their 'gay' father and Hermes are friends so I'd just shut my mouth now if I were you, or your dad might smite you."

"I'm not scared of 'daddy'. Besides, you're one to talk," Marcus shoots back, "You don't even know who _your_ parent is. Bet they're too ashamed to claim you."

Suddenly, my vision goes bright red and I kind of blank. The next thing I know, Marcus is K.O.'ed on the ground and Travis and Argus are leading me away. I'm not fighting them. I can't even sort through what happened in the last thirty seconds. I let them lead me into the Big House.

"I have never seen you get that mad before," Travis says as they both let go of my arms and allow me to sit down on the sofa. "Dude, your skin went red, almost glowing red, and you had this look in your eyes like… I can't even explain it. I just knew I wouldn't want to be Marcus."

At this, Chiron trots into the room. "What happened, m'dear?"

"I… I'm not sure… I don't remember… I can't… He said something and I… I just…"

My thoughts are so jumbled, I'm not even able to form a coherent sentence, and I feel like I'm going to start crying for no reason at all.

"What'd he say, Travis?" asks Argus. "You were there, obviously."

Travis is quiet for a moment. He's probably surprised to actually hear Argus speak. I'd told him that he talks but he probably hadn't believed me before now.

"He said something about her being unclaimed still. That her parent was probably ashamed of her. It was something like that anyway," he answers, placing a hand on my shoulder in what I'm sure is meant to be a calming gesture.

"What did she say for him to say this?" Chiron questions.

"Well… Marcus was running his mouth. He had called the Apollo kids gay like their dad and was being stupid in general. Then she told him to shut up because Hermes and Apollo are friends and Hermes might smite him. That's when he said that he wasn't scared of dad and then the whole thing about her being unclaimed."

"I see," Chiron responds, looking thoughtful.

"He's okay, right? I didn't seriously hurt him, did I?" I say, finally returning to my senses enough to think about what happened.

If I punched him, then I could have seriously hurt him. Being nearly six foot and having a very low body fat percentage is generally a poor combination for someone on the receiving end of one of my punches, even jerks like Marcus.

"He'll be fine. But I'm not entirely convinced that you did that. On a physical plane, yes, it was you who hit him, but I don't believe it was _you_."

"Wh… What do you mean?" I ask, my jumbled mind not making any sense of his cryptic words.

"Marcus, called Apollo... ahem… Gay, yes?" Chiron asks glancing nervously out the window at the sky, clearly uncomfortable using 'gay' and 'Apollo' in the same sentence. Understandable. Apollo and his sister are probably the two Olympians most inclined to the idea of vindictiveness… Well… Besides maybe Zeus…. And possibly Hera…

"Yeah," Travis nods slowly, clearly as lost as I am.

"He also said he was not afraid of Hermes, correct?"

"Well… Yeah, but I don't see how that means anything…"

"What we may have just witnessed is Apollo or Hermes—or both—directly controlling a mortal."

"Why?" I manage to question.

"Marcus quite possibly offended one god and practically dared the other, his father Hermes, to do something. And so they, in all probability, did."

"Why me?"

"Most likely because you were defending them in the conflict."

"That makes sense, I guess…" Travis says as though he's not really sure if it does or not.

A moment later, everyone turns at the sound of the door opening. Two sets of footsteps are audible. One hurried set, the other more leisurely. The owner of the hurried footsteps appears in the doorway to the room first.

Theia.

Almost immediately, she's hugging me.

"Are you okay?" she yells in my ear before holding me out at arm's length.

"I punched Marcus out and you're worried if _I'm_ okay?"

"Well, yeah. He deserved it I'm sure, but Mr. D said—"

"Yes, _I'll_ say," reprimands Mr. D as he walks into the room, a bored look on his face.

I stand up quickly.

"Mr. D, I am _so_ sorry. I—"

"Yes, yes. You're sorry, but _I'm_ the one who has to fill out all the paperwork, Marina."

"Um… My name's Nakita…"

"Yes, I'm sure it is."

"Mr. D," begins Chiron, "do you know whether or not Hermes or Apollo acted through her?"

Mr. D scowls.

"Why of course they did! That Martin boy was lucky she punched him. Being so disrespectful to the gods! Bah! Apollo wanted to incinerate him right there, but Hermes intervened on his son's behalf—though Zeus knows why—and convinced him that the punishment should be less drastic. Me, I was all for Apollo incinerating him. One less brat to deal with. But, of course, Hermes dissuaded him from carrying through. Silver-tongued devil."

"So… I'm not in trouble… Am I?"

"No. I suppose not," he sighs as if upset to admit the fact, "but I don't want any more trouble out of you or you'll be cleaning out the stables with a toothbrush. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," I say.

"Well then… Dia, I believe you have a play to be working on, and you, Trevor, have a cabin to be supervising. Go on. Off with you hoodlums. Shoo!"

"Yes, sir," we all respond, hurrying out of the Big House and into the night air.

"That was _crazy_." Theia practically trills the last word.

"Yeah," I reply intelligently.

"Well, I say Marcus got what he deserved," Travis says with a nod of finality, his hair once more falling down in his face.

"What even happened?" Theia asks looking to me for the answer. "I saw you punch him, but that was about it."

"He said your whole cabin and your dad are gay," Travis volunteers for me. Knowing what this will be the catalyst of, I really want to Gibbslap him again, but I have more important things to worry about at the moment.

"He said what? So help me, he's gonna wish he had been incinerated, 'cause I'm gonna make his life the Fields of Punishment!" she exclaims as she begins to march off toward the infirmary, no doubt to follow through on her words.

Theia never says things just to say them. If she says them, she is convicted and has every intention of following through with her actions.

Travis and I simultaneously grab her arms, trying to restrain her. You might think that would be easy because she _is_ only sixteen and we tower over her at just about six feet each, but no. If Theia has her mind set on something, she will not be stopped by petty height and age differences. Not to mention, the tempers of the Apollo children tend to be about like their father; in other words, they are not typically easily provoked, but once they have been… Well, let's just say it usually doesn't end well for anyone.

"Theia," I start, struggling to hold her back, "I think he's already been punished."

"Yeah, really," Travis agrees, clearly struggling as well. "Kita—Well… Not _Kita_, but '_god-controlled_' Kita hit him pretty hard."

She seems to think about this because my arms suddenly feel a lot better and not like my shoulders are being dislocated by trying to hold back a MACK truck. After a moment, she stops dragging the two of us, stops struggling completely, and sighs in something between defeat and resignation.

"Yeah. I guess you two are right. Besides, I have a show to be helping with tonight..."

"Yeah… About that… Theia, do you think I can take a rain check?" I ask.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"No. Just tired is all. My insomnia's been acting up again lately, but, I dunno… I guess what happened's made me tired. I might actually be able to get some sleep tonight."

"Sure. See you tomorrow morning. Night," she says, running off toward the amphitheatre.

As soon as she is out of sight, Travis turns to me.

"Do you need me to walk with you to the cabin, or do you think you're okay?" he asks clearly concerned, and I know he's thinking about my fear of the dark and of being alone.

Yes, my other completely ridiculous fear is of being alone. The shrink I used to go to during my days at the orphanage had said that this fear is probably rooted in the fact that I was abandoned and left in an orphanage without friends.

Personally, I don't see the point in trying to figure out why it is, I just know it is and that's good enough for me.

I force myself to focus and answer Travis.

"No. If you don't go supervise all of your siblings, the amphitheatre might not be standing by the time you get back from walking me to the cabin."

"Oh man! You're right! I left Connor in charge!" he exclaims, sprinting away. "Night, Kita!" he yells over his shoulder.

I shake my head, a smile gracing my face as I start toward the cabins, wondering how I ended up befriending such crazy people.

"Nakita!" comes a familiar female voice from behind me.

I turn around to look at the Big House once more. Chiron and Rachel, the new Oracle of Delphi, are walking toward me.

"I heard what happened!" Rachel exclaims. "I wish I could have seen it! That Marcus is a real jerk! Insulting Lord Apollo like that! However hard you hit him, you didn't hit him hard enough!"

"Um…"

Chiron looks apologetically at me then appears serious once more.

"Are you alright?"

"… I think so… It was kind of weird not having control and I was kinda hazy there for a little after it happened, but I'm alright now."

"Good. Well. I see that you are tired, so I will let you go get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow might bring?"

Which is the exact wrong thing to say, of course, because Rachel's eyes start glowing an eerie shade of green and she doubles over as green smoke begins to spew from her mouth.

We both watch, stunned, as Rachel suddenly straightens and looks at me.

Only this doesn't seem like Rachel at all… And the strange, almost serpentine hissing sound certainly isn't Rachel. In fact, the only thing that seems like Rachel is that it looks like her. But this is _not_ Rachel. This is the famed Oracle of Delphi, Speaker of Prophecies, Seer of the Future, Embracer of the Past.

I had seen this before a few times. It is a prophecy. Chiron had unintentionally triggered a prophecy.

That's just what we need…

Now, if you've never seen the Oracle spout off a prophecy, I have to say, there is nothing quite so freaky as seeing the transformation from Rachel to the Oracle. Altogether it's just creepy beyond the previous realms of what most people think creepy can possibly be. That is what it's like to get a Prophecy from the Oracle. Especially the live Oracle. In my opinion, the mummy wasn't half as creepy.

But suddenly, her glazed over eyes focus on me and she begins to speak,

"_Four heroes must soon depart_

_To vanquish ever darkest heart_

_Below, one must fight and best_

_The blackest night or ever rest_

_The Keepers of Song and Art will know_

_As to why the heroes go_

_For unless fortune and health are met_

_All of Olympus, the world forget_."

The last word is said, not in the Oracle's voice, but in Rachel's own voice, and the green light suddenly vanishes from Rachel's eyes, the green mist evaporates quickly. Too quickly. All of us notice it, even Rachel.

It is a longer prophecy than normal and it seemed to have finished, yet the Oracle itself had stopped abruptly. Usually, Rachel's transformations back to Rachel are a little longer, and the green vapors evaporate after a few moments; this time, however, they had disappeared almost before the last word was uttered and Rachel's voice had spoken the last word, not the Oracle. It was as if someone had hung up the other end of the telephone line.

"Wh… What just happened?" Rachel asks, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it and tottering as if the slightest movement will make her fall over. "I feel… weird."

Chiron grips her elbow to steady her and we exchange looks over her head, but I am the one to speak.

"That does not seem like a good sign."

"No. It does not," he frowns. "Nakita, you must go to the amphitheatre and gather the cabin leaders. Do so quietly if it is at all possible. We do not need rumors starting when we ourselves are unsure of what is happening. I will take Rachel inside and consult Mr. D."

"Right," I nod, taking one more look at the disoriented Rachel before running toward the amphitheatre, barely managing to stifle a yawn.

Tonight is going to be a long night. I can see that right now.

Unfortunately, my prediction is not disproved.

It takes a while, but I am able to successfully extract the counselors without much notice. Connor and Travis first. Then Annabeth, Percy, and Nico. Next Miranda and Pollux. Clarisse follows. Somehow, I manage to get Will Solace, child of Apollo, without any notice, despite the play. Thank the gods that he usually only works backstage. Theia, of course, is curious and says that she is coming, too. I then retrieve Nathan, child of Hephaestus. He is only counselor in the stead of Leo Valdez, who is currently out on a quest.

After the main Olympians' counselors were collected, I sent them to the Big House, then continued gathering the counselors for the minor gods' cabins. Butch, child of Iris; Marrick, child of Nemesis; Lou Ellen, child of Hecate; Aurora, child of Morpheus; Annette, child of Janus; my friend Masago, child of Thanatos; etc. etc. etc.

Somehow, I manage to get all of them to the Big House without detection… And then I realize I forgot Drew, child of Aphrodite, who is thankfully only a substitute counselor while Piper is away on the same quest as Leo. I end up having to go back to get her... I don't want to, but Chiron says it is necessary to have everyone gathered. Including _her_.

However, in the end, all fifty counselors are seated around the now much bigger conference table. Yes, there are way more than fifty gods and _way_ more than fifty cabins, but not all gods have children to put in said cabins at this time.

Now, obviously, I am not a counselor. I mean, I don't even know to which cabin I belong. However, I am one of the oldest at the camp, and it was to me that the Oracle of Delphi spouted off the prophecy.

"Alright, alright. Settle down," Chiron says, but the mumblings, gossiping, and conspiracy theories continue.

"SHUT UP! CHIRON'S TRYING TO TELL US WHY WE'RE HERE!" bellows Theia, easily drowning out all the other noise in the room. Immediately, everyone's attention turns to the ancient trainer of heroes.

"Thank you, Theia. Ahem…Yes, well…" he begins. "I am sure that you are all curious as to why you are here." There he is interrupted by general murmurs of agreement until Theia glares around the table, effectively silencing them. "Just an hour ago, the Oracle delivered to Nakita a prophecy. You have all been brought here so that you may hear it and so that we may determine a course of action. Nakita?"

I feel all two hundred six eyes in the room turn to me. Yes, there are only fifty counselors, which means a hundred eyes, but Argus, Connor, Chiron, and Theia are in the room, too, and Argus counts for another hundred all by himself.

"Well… The prophecy went like this:

"_Four heroes must soon depart_

_To vanquish ever darkest heart_

_Below, one must fight and best_

_The blackest night or ever rest_

_The Keepers of Song and Art will know_

_As to why the heroes go_

_For unless fortune and health are met_

_All of Olympus, the world forget_."

"Now," says Chiron, "since the prophecy was given to Nakita, we will assume that she is one of the mentioned heroes, and the three that she chooses to go with her will be the others. Does anyone have any questions?"

"So… Does this mean Orympus in trouble again?" asks Masago with a heavy Japanese accent.

"It would appear so," Chiron answers, nodding grimly.

"So… Wait," starts Percy, clearly confused. "When it's talking about the 'darkest heart', who does it mean?"

It is Aura, child of Aeolus, who answers.

"Well, it could mean Nyx or Thanatos or Hades."

Masago frowns, "My father has nothing to do with this."

"Nor does mine," Nico says, quickly coming to his father's defense.

"Well, he is ruler of the Underworld," Connor reasons as Travis elbows him in warning.

"My father has _nothing _to do with this," the son of Hades practically growls, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"He _is_ the darkest heart," says Annette, " 'below' seems to point to the Underworld to me."

"Are you honestly accusing my father?" he exclaims standing up and slamming his hands down on the table. There goes the Hades family temper. "My father helped to save Olympus! Why would he endanger it now that he is getting the respect that he has wanted for so long? The respect he deserves?"

"Maybe he's not satisfied with that. Maybe he was just biding his time until he could take over," Drew volunteers.

As Nico gets a murderous look in his eyes, I quickly intervene, trying to save the camp from getting overrun by killer zombies due to Nico's anger getting out of control. His powers are still very much linked to his emotions, and he hasn't quite gotten control of either as of yet.

"Nico, no one is accusing your father," I try to soothe. "We're simply trying to sort through the prophecy. We have to look at all possible angles to this, Nico. Please, understand that."

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, nods, and sits down. Nico and I aren't great friends, but we have a kind of understanding. He knows what it's like to be an outcast and I am one, so it gives us camaraderie. I suppose that is the best explanation of it.

"Obviously, this will get us nowhere," Annabeth says being the sensible daughter of Athena that she is.

"Really, Wise girl? I had no idea," Percy responds rolling his eyes.

"Can it, Seaweed brain."

" 'Can it'. Real funny."

"I thought so."

Chiron clears his throat loudly, getting the attention of both.

"If you two are finished?"

Percy and Annabeth fall silent and look down.

"Chiron," I begin, "you mentioned that you would consult Mr. D. Has he said anything?"

Chiron frowns, which is never a good sign. That usually means something extremely bad is just around the corner, waiting to jump out and attack us.

"Well… I informed Mr. D, but I was unable to ask him anything, because he was summoned to Olympus via Iris message."

This started the murmuring afresh. Mr. D was summoned to Olympus? And by Iris message? Whenever Mr. D had been summoned to Olympus in the past, Lord Hermes had always come to tell him.

Percy speaks up, "Maybe I can get in contact with my dad. He might know something."

Chiron shakes his head.

"No, Percy. Mr. D assured me that he will send me an Iris message as soon as he knows anything on the matter."

"So what do we do?" Travis questions. "We can't seem to interpret the prophecy without… problems, and we can't get any information."

"Well…" I sigh. "The prophecy says '_The Keepers of Song and Art will know as to why the heroes go_.' The Keepers of Song and Art would be the Muses, right? Where do the Muses stay?"

"Olympus," Percy answers with certainty.

I merely nod.

"Well," Chiron says. "It appears as though you know your starting point. Now, you must choose who you wish to accompany you."

I look around the table. Percy, Annabeth, and Clarisse are all giving me anxious looks. I can tell each of them really wants to go, but somehow, I know this is not their quest.

I continue my scan around the table. Travis. Connor. Will. Annette. Masago. Theia. Nico. Aurora. Marrick. Butch. Pollux. Aura. So many familiar faces. Some of them friends. This quest could be very dangerous. The line, '_Below, one must fight and best, The blackest night or ever rest_' echoes in my mind. Someone will face a life or death situation. Someone might not come back.

And yet, strangely, I know who needs to go. As much as I hate it, I know who needs to go. Without doubt or question.

"Well, Chiron… I want—"

Unfortunately, I am interrupted as a door is slammed open and two people walk into the room: Victoria Declan and Ava.

"Alright. What's going on? I was looking for Clarisse and I couldn't find her. Now I find all of you in here… It's not another end of the world is it?" Victoria asks, clearly not all that worried about it.

Victoria, only three years younger than Clarisse, is a daughter of Ares. She served alongside all of us in the second Titan war, and is therefore a veteran of the camp.

She and I get along well enough, but sometimes, she hates me. I don't know why. I guess children of Ares have to hate everyone and everything at some point. Thankfully, though, today she seems to be okay with me.

"Well, Victoria," starts Chiron, "we are unsure as of yet. Nakita was going to tell us who would accompany her on her quest."

"What quest?" Ava questions, her big blue eyes curious.

"The one she just got. Duh," Drew says, a sadistic gleam in her eyes.

Ava shrinks a little. A few of the Aphrodite girls are always picking on her. Especially Drew. She takes extra joy in doing so.

All I can do is glare at the obnoxious girl.

I can't stand her 'I'm-prettier-than-you-so-you-are-dirt-beneath-my-very-overly-manicured-feet' attitude. It irks me more than any of the other irksome habits the Aphrodite girls choose to possess. And they do choose to possess them, because not all of them are like that. Not even most of them, but the few that are try to make up for the lack of it in their siblings.

"Really, Drew? We had, like, _no_ idea," Victoria replies imitating Drew and then rolling her eyes disgustedly.

As humorous as I find this, I know it will escalate so once more I plan to step in when the most hilarious thing happens.

"Girls, _girls_," starts Connor in the most flaming-est fashion designer voice in the history of **_ever_**. "You all have to stop fighting. It's just not pretty when pretty people fight. Why can't we all just get along?"

Everyone, and I mean _everyone_, turns to look at him.

"Connor?" says Ava worriedly. "... Are you alright?"

"Course I'm okay, silly! I just wish we could all be friends," he smiles, continuing his charade before getting a mischievous look in his eye.

This makes me extraordinarily nervous. Connor getting that look is never a good sign.

He grins like the Cheshire cat, which is even more alarming, before throwing his arms around the two people sitting on either side of him—an unfortunate Travis and an unsuspecting Annette. He then continues on to bellow in a voice that is probably making Apollo want to die:

"Why can't we be friends? Why can't we be friends?" and swaying side-to-side, forcing Annie and Travis to do the same.

At this point, everyone is laughing. Even Chiron and Argus are trying to restrain laughter.

Connor, for as long as I've known him, has always had the uncanny ability to make everyone laugh, no matter how grave the situation. And, as a knot unties in the pit of my stomach, I realize Connor probably knew that we all needed a laugh, if only for a moment.

"Alright, alright. Settle down," Chiron says, coughing in such a way as to cover a renegade laugh. "Yes well. Thank you for that… interesting input, Connor. But I'm afraid that we must return to the matter at hand. Nakita, do you have an answer as to who will make this journey with you?"

"I do, Chiron."

"Please share with us then so that they may prepare for the journey."

"Well… I need Theia, Travis, and…" I hesitate a moment, my eyes scanning the faces of my friends. I know what I have to do, but… It doesn't make it any easier to leave them behind. I know how much the five of them want to be the final one. Annie. Connor. Erin. Victoria. Ava. It will be hard to leave them, but my decision has been made for me. "And… it doesn't seem to me like anyone else here should go with me."

Everyone looks at me, puzzled, but it is Chiron who speaks.

"The prophecy says four."

"I know that, but no one else in here can go with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. No one else. I don't know why it says four, but I have this feeling in my gut that those are the only ones who can come with me."

"Very well. I am concerned about this, but I trust your judgment. Travis. Theia. Do you accept?"

"Hades yeah I do," Theia nods, probably excited for her first big quest.

Chiron flinches at her carelessly slinging around the lord of the Underworld's name, then looks to Travis, and I turn away so that I won't have to see the look that passes between Travis and Connor.

They do everything together. They aren't twins, but they are so close it is scary. They can finish each other's sentences, and they can talk without a word. This quest will split up the two of them. Connor can't come, and Travis—I force myself to follow through with the thought— might not come back. Connor will have to stay here at camp, not knowing.

But I can't second guess myself. My gut has told me who I will need, and I cannot ignore that. Ignoring your instincts can get you, and everyone else, killed.

I refuse to turn and look, but I hear Travis sigh.

"Yeah. I do."

"Good. Then this meeting is adjourned. I implore you, counselors, to not speak of this to anyone else. We know so little of what is going on, and we do not need to start a panic. Normally, I would not condone lying, but, under the circumstances, if anyone asks you what was discussed here tonight, say we were voting on whether or not to have a chariot race. The vote resulted in a 'no'. Nothing more is to be discussed with the other campers. Am I understood?"

There is a chorus of agreement followed by the shuffling of feet as everyone except Travis, Theia, and I file out. As soon as the last counselor has left, Chiron turns to us.

"Nakita, Theia, Travis. Gather your things together and then get some rest. Tomorrow, you will leave. I will see you off at the border, and Argus will drive you to Olympus."

We nod our understanding, and he dismisses us.

After Theia breaks off to go to her cabin, it is a silent walk back to ours between Travis and me.

Under the circumstances, I'm not sure what to say. I'm not sure if he is mad at me or just trying to come to grips with leaving Connor here and going on the quest. Either way, he doesn't seem all that inclined to speak to me either.

We reach the still empty cabin and pack, throwing stuff in our waterproof backpacks. By the time I'm halfway packed, Connor walks in—ignoring me—and goes directly over to his big brother.

They both begin to talk in whispers and I know that they're both upset. I can't help but wonder if they're giving me down the road right now.

I can't blame them for it either.

Without a word or glance at either of the two brothers, I put my newly packed bag on the floor, lie down on my bed, and try to catch some sleep. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know, though, that just like when the Lelaps—the dog that was destined to catch everything it chased—was set upon the Teumessian fox who was destined to never be caught, there would be a paradox. No matter how tired I am that I should sleep, I won't be able to at all. A perfect paradox if ever there was one.

Hours passed and just as I'd thought, sleep decidedly avoided me all night, and now as I finally give up on ever sleeping, it is three thirty. Everyone else is still sound asleep and the cabin is dark. Super dark and I have to force myself to breathe.

Sometimes, having a fear of the dark isn't so bad… Mostly when it's daytime and bright outside… But other times—namely in the night and early hours of the morning—having such a phobia can be… inconvenient. _Very_ inconvenient.

I take a few deep breaths to keep myself calm and then sit up, my eyes slowly adjusting if only a little to the blackness. I turn, slipping out from under the nice warm covers, and my bare feet meet the cold of the worn wooden flooring. Needless to say, I quickly pull my feet back up on the bed, reach down where my shoes are, and haul them up on the bed, too.

After I've put on my sandals, I set my feet to the ground once more. I listen for a few moments, assuring myself that no one is awake before I quietly stand, pull on my jacket, fasten my watch to my wrist, and begin to tiptoe towards the door.

Just as I'm passing Travis' bunk, I trip over a shoe. One of Travis' shoes.

Hearing the noise, Travis sits bolt upright in the bed, his pocket knife in hand, and I scowl at the shoe.

Stupid shoe. Stupid lack of night vision.

He looks into the dark drowsily at first, but then he seems to focus in on me and becomes more alert.

"What are you doing up?" he whispers, rubbing his eyes.

"I can't sleep. I'm going out for some air."

"What time is it?"

I look down at my watch and then back up at him.

"Three forty."

"The harpies will eat you."

I smirk devilishly into the darkness, a smirk worthy of Travis himself.

"The harpies and I have… an agreement."

"What kind of… Never mind. It's probably not legal. I don't need to know," he responds, shaking his head.

I raise an eyebrow at him, and a retort about Hermes children and laws is on the tip of my tongue but I refrain and say nothing more on the matter.

"Well, I'm going outside," I state, not leaving room for argument. I'm still not quite sure if he's mad at me or not.

"Alright. As long as you won't get eaten in the early morning of your first big quest," he replies, a bit of an edge to the last few words.

"Ha ha," I answer drily as I begin to move more carefully towards the door, deciding to quietly scoot my feet rather than lift them entirely.

Just as I've opened the door and am about to step out, I hear his voice once more, only this time, much closer as his hand grips my shoulder.

"Will they eat me if I'm with you?"

"They shouldn't."

"That's comforting…" he sighs. "Oh well. I'm coming outside with you."

"Don't you need to get some sleep?"

Even in the darkness, I can almost feel the tenseness in the air.

"I think we need to talk more than I need to sleep."

I knew it. He is mad at me.

He's going outside so that he can yell at least a little bit louder without waking the others up. Seven years of friendship and this is how it ends. He'll yell a little and then he'll never talk to me again. One less person that will care when there are already so few…

I close my eyes briefly and then nod before stepping out into the cool night air.

For a moment, I just breathe in the smell of pine and the dew already gathering on the ground in anticipation of morning, mirroring my own anticipation for such an important morning.

I know that I may not come back from this quest. '_There one must fight and best, The blackest night or ever rest._' That fragment alone gives me reason enough to shiver, but the rest isn't exactly heartwarming either.

I snap out of it only as Travis steps outside, closing the door behind him. Another shiver runs down my spine, and I quickly walk over to the tree and start to climb it, easily becoming level to the roof in no time. One step and I'm on the timbers that seem as though they shouldn't be able to hold my weight.

The first time I had decided to climb up here, I remember I had been terrified that I would fall through, but I've been up here so many times since that day, I don't even think about it anymore. This rooftop is my sanctuary for thought and peace, however fleeting.

I turn just in time to help Travis onto the roof and we both sit down, our legs dangling over the side.

For what seems like hours but I know are only minutes, we sit in silence.

Part of me wants to maintain this quiet, stall the inevitable for just a little longer. Maybe long enough to fool myself into thinking that someone else isn't _really_ going to leave me… But the other part of me, the sensible part, has to know, has to get it over with quickly. One quick stab to the heart rather than a more painful one later that breaks all the illusions.

"Travis. Are you mad at me?"

It's a simple question, but it's one that has so much riding on it.

He closes his eyes and sighs. He doesn't say anything for so long that I almost take it as confirmation, but then he sighs again and turns to look at me, the limited amount of light from the lanterns that are still lit catching his brown eyes.

"Kita, I'm not mad at you," he answers simply.

And for a split second, I'm not sure what to say. He's not?

"You're not?"

"No."

"Were you?"

"Earlier when you first said that Connor wouldn't go? Yeah, I was."

I'm so confused. I was expecting yelling. At the very least a little bit of anger, but he actually seems… _regretful. _Not angry in the slightest.

"So why aren't you now?"

Another sigh, "Because I know that you know what you're doing. Friendship is about trust and I just had to remind myself of that. And I'm sorry that I acted like that. One thing about children of Hermes is that we tend to find fault where there is none—or there is very little—and we overreact to it. We all learned that first hand with Luke, and I don't want to go down that path. Especially not over something silly like this. I trust you. You would've let Connor go if you thought he could… And in the end, I think I may have more of a problem being away from him than he will with me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just… I've always been there to look out for him... I've always been there and suddenly…"

"You won't be there to protect him if he needs it."

"Exactly. It's just a little weird… But he knows what he's doing. He's nineteen now. He can take care of himself."

Once more silence falls for only a moment before my thoughts must be spoken.

"I think we all learned to take care of ourselves after the war. Everyone had to grow up. No one can stay a kid forever. Some people grow up faster than others by themselves. Others don't ever have the choice of being a kid. They have to grow up fast to survive. There were a lot of people who did a lot of growing up in the war," I say darkly.

As I remember all of my fallen friends, I look toward the direction of the wall that all the campers—despite their prejudices towards one another—banded together to make. On the wall is listed all the names of those who had fallen. Every last one. Silena Beauregard. Michael Yew. Lee Fletcher. Luke Castellan. All of them.

"Yeah…"

There's another long silence, but this time it's different. Comfortable. Almost serene as we stare out at the silent camp.

So much has changed. Just last year, the camp was a battlefield. A warzone. A burial ground. Our fellow campers, some friends, were dying, killed by war and hate.

Now, as I look out from my place on the roof, it's so different. It's back to what it was before the war. A refuge. A safe haven. A home.

_Maybe not much longer._

The thought makes me wince, but I know it's true. The prophecy had made it clear that the success or failure of the quest would decide the fate of Olympus itself. Camp Half-blood? It will get caught in the cross-fire just like it always has, and heroes will step forward to protect it and Olympus like they always have. A never-ending cycle of danger, bloodshed, peace, danger, bloodshed, peace. The life of a demigod. Is that all we are meant for? Is that all we are destined to do in our lives?

Travis and I, we are old for demigods. He's twenty two and I'm almost twenty one. My supposed birthday will be this month. March 15th. The Ides of March. The death date of a very famous demigod. What if it is mine, too? Life will move on and the cycle will continue. Nothing changed. Absolutely nothing.

A sudden yawn breaks me from my philosophical musings and I turn to look at its source.

"Travis."

"Hm?" he replies, looking at me with sleepy brown eyes dangerously close to shutting.

I can't help but smile.

"Go get some sleep."

"Okay," he replies, standing. He grips a tree limb and is about to start climbing down, but he stops and turns back to me. "Aren't you gonna try to sleep some more, too? Who knows the next time you'll get the chance."

"Maybe," I lie, "but I'm going to sit up here a little while longer."

"Mm'kay."

And with that almost unintelligible response, he starts his climb down the tree. I listen intently, trying to discern if he makes it down okay and the soft creak of worn-out hinges a few moments later assures me he has.

Almost immediately, I stretch out on the roof and look into the endless sky, allowing my mind to wander aimlessly as I start to mentally prepare myself for the unknown of later today.

* * *

_**That one**_** has gone through some major changes in what goes on and what is said. A _lot_ changed. **

**Well, hope you guys like it and I'd love to hear from you.**

**~Kanae~**


	4. Coke Dependency

Chapter Four: Coke Dependency

I didn't realize I had drifted off until I awoke to the first sounding of the conch shell… It startled me so badly that I almost fell off the roof.

Thankfully, though, I did not. Thank you demigod reflexes.

After a second to recover from my almost broken neck, I quickly scale down the tree and walk over to the door of the cabin.

Upon listening a moment and realizing that no one is stirring around, I carefully open the door and step inside. I find myself tiptoeing across the floor once more to reach my bunk. Reaching it, I pick up my backpack with one hand and walk over to Travis' bunk, this time avoiding the shoe I had tripped over last night.

Instead, I opt to trip over the other one.

I barely catch myself at least enough to not fall on my face and hastily stand back up, once more finding myself in a battle of glares with one of Travis' shoes.

"We'll continue this another time," I say to the shoe before turning to look at its owner.

The morning wake up—and my rather noisy fall—haven't even fazed him. He's still sprawled out, one arm hanging off the bed and head thrown back, snoring ever so lightly. The covers are everywhere except where they're supposed to be. Keeping him warm.

Instead, I'm given a view of his green and blue plaid sleep pants and his green 'Duct tape fixes everything' t-shirt. This obviously has to be true because Travis has had this shirt long enough that Duct tape is literally holding it together in some places.

What amazes me is that only he and his siblings have the ability to sleep so deeply that not even Typhon rampaging through the camp would wake them.

Now one might wonder how this can be true considering how easily he had woken up last night. Well, the strange thing I've noticed is that the children of Hermes—and some children of certain other gods—sleep lightly at night, while in the morning they are impossible to wake up.

My theory is that, at night time, when danger hides itself easily in the shadows, the slightest noise out of the ordinary will wake them; however, during the morning when danger cannot lurk so closely to them, they sleep deeply enough that the apocalypse could be happening right outside and they would still be snoring.

Yet another reason I know I am not a child of Hermes. I can't even get to sleep, much less _stay_ asleep.

As he rolls over in his sleep, I can't help but shake my head and smile. I really wish I had a camera so that I could capture for documentation the _only_ time that he or any of his siblings—especially Connor—have the capacity to look angelic.

In their sleep. Too bad I'm going to have to wake him up…

"Travis," I say quietly, trying not to wake anyone else. As expected, he doesn't even move. "Travis," I repeat, poking him in the shoulder. Again, nothing. So like any other self-respecting, impulsive demigod, I grab his shoulder and shake. "Travis!" I exclaim quietly.

Suddenly, the whole room spins and a very drowsy and startled Travis has me pinned under him, his pocketknife held to my neck.

"What the… Kita?" he asks blearily, opening his eyes, his face just inches from mine.

"It's time to leave," I say, undaunted by the knife at my neck.

"Leave?" he questions, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He never has been a morning person.

"Yeah, you know. The big important mission. Trip to Olympus. Which I'm leading. Hey, speaking of me, could you move the knife away from my neck and get off of me? I'd hate for Ava to walk in and get the wrong idea again."

He looks at me dazedly for a second longer before conscious thought returns to his half-asleep brain. His eyes widen substantially in understanding and he quickly jumps up from being on top of me and stands, offering me his right hand as he puts the knife away with his left.

"I'm sorry, Kita. I just—"

"Reacted, I know," I sigh, as I take his hand and he helps me up.

It's not like this had been the first time; it probably wouldn't be the last. So many demigods had gotten this way during the TWII.

He smirks impishly. "How many times has this happened to you now?"

"Well, I don't wake Theia up anymore. Not since the pencil incident," I say instinctively flinching as I recall the event. "And with you, at least six or seven times… In the last four _months_."

This time, an apologetic grin spreads across his face.

"Sorry."

"I know," I smile, shaking my head. "Now hurry up, get dressed, and grab your backpack. Double check to make sure you have everything. I'm going to make sure Theia is up. Meet us at the Big House."

"Got it."

"Alright. See ya there."

I quietly walk toward the door without a moment's hesitation, exit the cabin, and cross the open area to the Apollo cabin.

Usually, at the first sounding of the conch shell, only a few campers—the earliest of risers— are awake, and this morning is no exception. I walk past a few of them and say a hasty good morning on my way up the Apollo cabin steps.

Looking in through the window, I see that Theia is indeed not awake, and I sigh. I _really _didn't want to have to wake her up _ever _again... But… This is somewhat important…

I approach the door of the Apollo cabin and silently open it. Upon stepping inside, I have to blink a few times in order for my eyes to adjust; one might think this is because it was bright outside, but no, it's because even with everyone asleep, it's brighter in here than it is outside in the daylight…

After allowing my eyes a moment to adjust, I begin to look around the cabin. Having only briefly been in here once before, I give myself a moment to take in some of what I'm seeing.

The whole Apollo cabin seems to shimmer and glow a faint gold color. The ceiling is one huge mosaic of the sky with the sun in the middle which is actual a _huge_ light fixture that looks like the sun. Well, the mortal perception of the sun, anyway.

The amazing thing about the mosaic on the ceiling, though, is that the colors magically change with what time of day it is. Looking up right now, the tiles are an orangey-red color on one end of the cabin, slowly fading into blue till the wall on the far side of the cabin, perfectly reflecting the sunrise outside. Even watching briefly, I can see the colors slowly changing.

Moving my gaze from the ceiling to the walls I see that they are lined with instruments, bookshelves, medicine shelves and just about anything else you can think of because—like Apollo himself—children of Apollo have many different interests. Medicine, archery, music, poetry, art, etc. Needless to say there's a lot of stuff in the cabin.

Focusing on the reason why I had actually entered the cabin, I start to look to where I know Theia's bed is situated, but then I stop.

For the first time since entering the cabin, I realize that while Theia and the rest of the cabin are not yet awake, someone is, and he is staring at me curiously.

He probably had been sitting in his chair by the window, just as he is now, this whole time that I've been standing here staring at the ceiling. It really scares me that I hadn't noticed him earlier. One day, that could end up getting me killed, and I would quite prefer to stay alive.

"Hey, Will," I say quietly, not wanting to wake any of the other Apollo campers.

He nods with a smile and rises from his chair, coming to stand closer to me before answering.

"Hey. So you're leaving on your first big quest today, right?"

I smile nervously in response and nod.

"Yeah."

"Well, I've never really lead a quest or been on a major one either, for that matter," he frowns as if having just thought of that fact before looking back up at me and smiling. "But I'm sure you'll do great."

Despite what quite a few campers think, children of Apollo aren't just show-offs with projectile weapons like arrows and masters of the arts; most of them are genuinely nice people. Theia's been my friend since a little while after she showed up at camp, and Lee Fletcher and I had been friends for several years before he was killed in the Battle of the Labyrinth.

His death had been hard on many people, Will included. That's how Will and I had become friends. One week, we were talking about how good a friend Lee was, and then a week or so later, we were talking about our favorite books and music. Like I've said before, war and loss can really bring people together. Odd how something so horrible can have its good points, too. I'd still prefer that it didn't happen, but I'm glad that if it must, there are sometimes good things that follow it.

So with a genuine smile, I look at Will.

"Thanks, Will. I hope you're right. I really do."

He returns my smile and then looks at Theia nervously, his smile fading quickly.

"So… You gonna wake her up or should I?" he asks with noticeable hesitation in his normally strong, self-assured voice.

I glance at Theia, looking as though she is innocently sleeping, but Will and I both realize the hidden danger. Waking Theia this early in the morning is the equivalent of waking up a sleeping hellhound: dangerous and life-threatening.

Looking over at Will, I sigh.

I can't shove this off on the poor guy. He's dealt with it enough…

"I guess I will. I mean, you have to deal with her every morning. I suppose I can do it this time."

"Okay," he says, obviously not even going to consider arguing with me. "Well… I got your back, y'know… If she tries to kill you with her hair scruncii or something…"

The idea of killing or even attempting to kill someone with a hair scruncii may seem absurd, but something in Will's voice leads me to believe that he has, quite possibly, experienced this first hand.

I nod to him, glad that someone would have my back, and then I step toward her bed.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, my demigod reflexes are starting to wake up, clearly sensing the danger. For a split second, I want to turn to Will, tell him that I was kidding and that he can wake her up, and then run away to the safety of the outdoors.

One more glance at the 'trying-so-hard-to-be-brave' Will and I force myself to take another step. No, I cannot run or shove this off on Will. This is the first challenge of my quest. To run away now, I might as well tell Chiron, _No, I'm sorry. I can't even find the courage to wake up Theia. You should just find someone else for the quest. Someone who has a backbone preferably. _

I will not do that. I must be brave.

Just as I start to reach for her shoulder, I stop myself because out of my peripheral, I catch sight of several lethal weapons on Theia's bedside table.

Pencils and erasers.

Okay, one might think, 'Pencils I can understand. They have sharp points to them, after all. But erasers? Come on!'

Yes, even erasers, seemingly harmless erasers, can become lethal weapons in the grasp of a half-awake Theia. One should not test the theory, especially if one is not a demigod. It will not end well even for those who are. Therefore, one should just have to take my word about the dangers.

I withdraw my hand quickly, then put both hands on her bedside table, and pull it into the walkway, far out of her reach.

Casting a quick glance at Will, I see him smile and nod his approval before we both return our attention to the form of the sleeping sixteen-year-old.

I slowly re-approach the bed, Will following me closely, a pillow in his hand. Apparently, this is the closest thing to a shield that we will have at our disposal for the protection of our lives. This thought alone is alarming, but demigods are used to improvising.

Just as with Travis, the first action I try is poking her in the arm.

"Theia," I practically whisper as I poke her.

She doesn't move—just as expected—and so I glance back at Will who nods encouragingly.

Once more turning my gaze to Theia, I lean away a little before shaking her arm lightly.

"Theia!"

Just as before, there is no change...

Until she starts to move and both Will and I freeze…

And then she just rolls over and continues snoring.

I release the breath I didn't realize I had been holding and then glance back at Will. He merely shrugs and I turn to Theia again. This is not going well. We cannot be late because she refuses to wake up.

A little bit more impatiently now, I grab her shoulder.

"THEIA!" I yell a little more loudly.

"GET DOWN!" Will yells a lot more loudly, tackling me to the ground, him using his arm to keep me from hitting my head and obtaining a concussion.

Once I have regained my senses, I sit up and turn to Will who sits up as soon as my weight is off his arm.

"Thanks," I say to him, as I glance at the wall behind where I had been standing which has a dagger embedded in it to the hilt.

He nods and stands, then helps me up, too.

While he begins to inspect the elbow he had used to cushion our fall, I look at Theia who is glaring daggers at us. I have the urge to tell her there's no need to do so since, upon having been startled awake, she's already thrown one at me but I refrain. In her current humor it probably would not be well-received.

"What. Do. You. Want?" she growls.

Clearly, she has no idea what today is.

"Time to get up. We have things to do," I answer vaguely.

Will's yelling had woken up several other Apollo campers who are curiously looking at us. Chiron had wanted this to remain a secret from the other campers, and between Theia and Will, they were doing a bang up good job of keeping it anything but a secret.

"What is so important that you have to wake me up at this ungodly hour of the morning?"

"Theia," Will begins, not happy that he had quite possibly overextended and bruised his elbow while trying to cushion my head in the fall she caused. "It is six-thirty. The sun is out. You are a child of Apollo. _Get over it_."

Her glare slides over to her older brother, but he's upset enough that her glare is not even going to intimidate him right now.

"And your point is?"

Will puts his hands on his hips and his lips purse in annoyance.

"My _POINT_ is that you, Nakita, and Travis have something rather important to do today."

"Can't it wait?" she halfway whines, halfway growls.

Normally I wouldn't think of the words 'whines' and 'growls' working together, but there's really no other way to describe her tone.

"No, Theia. It can't. So haul your butt up out of the bed and get dressed. Grab your pack on the way out," he orders, leaving no room for argument.

He then turns to me with a definitive nod and leads me toward the door.

Right as he opens the door, we hear a very confused Theia ask exasperatedly, "Why is my bedside table way over there?"

He and I both choke back laughter and quickly walk outside.

As soon as the door has shut, he turns to me and smiles.

"Well, she was actually rather pleasant this morning."

I'm not entirely sure if he's being sarcastic or not, but I smile anyway.

"You definitely had my back. A good thing, too. I wouldn't have reacted in time. Your elbow okay?"

He raises it to look at it again and then nods.

"It should be fine. It'll probably bruise, but it'll be fine."

"That's good."

"Anyway, I wish you well on your quest. Like I said before, I know you'll do great and can't wait to see ya back soon, but right now I better go back in and make sure Theia's doing what she's supposed to do. She doesn't really think so clearly in the morning."

"Alright. Thanks for helping. See you when we get back."

"Definitely," he answers, opening the door and re-entering the cabin.

I turn to look out at the camp, the same thoughts I had been having last night drifting into my head. I can't bear to think that the camp might be torn apart again. It can't go that far. It just can't. Whatever's going on has to stop before it reaches the camp.

As I hear someone reach the door, I quickly move back, barely missing being hit by the door that is thrown open.

"Hey, Theia," I smile at my less than enthused friend.

Theia's expression is a scowl at best as she turns to me and replies, "How is it that you get less sleep then me and yet you get up smiling?"

Having thus spoken, she starts walking toward the Big House.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Sunshine," I mutter before following her. "On that matter… For someone whose father is the sun god, you are not a morning person."

"Yeah and I don't like haikus either. Your point?"

I take a moment to process this piece of evidence and then smile.

"I dunno. Just saying... You know something? You need your morning wake-up caffeine," I chide poking her in the shoulder.

"Ah, yes and on that ever so _crucial_ topic. What is Travis smuggling out of his and Connor's stash to go on the quest?"

"Um… Mostly Dr. Pepper, I think, seeing as how both he and I drink that. But I'm sure he hasn't forgotten about your Coke dependency."

"Good," she says, and for a moment, the evil grin on her face makes me want to run far, far away as quickly as I possibly can to cower in a corner only after curling myself into as small a target as is humanly possible.

After that, the rest of our walk is remarkably uneventful. Theia and I make it over to the Big House fifteen minutes before Travis, but when he finally gets there, the three of us begin following Chiron on foot to the border where Argus will be waiting with the camp van.

The walk there is quiet. In fact, not much is said at all, but when we reach the border with the van waiting there, Chiron stops and turns to us.

"Well, my young heroes."

"Some younger than others," Travis jokes under his breath, but he and I both know that, despite how low he had whispered it, Theia had heard him. This is only affirmed as she glares daggers at him almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

"This is your first big quest. I hope that you have been trained well here. Do the three of you have your weapons?"

Though she carries a backpack, she does not open it, instead producing her favorite dagger from under her 'hobo jacket', which is truly just a really stained AERO hoodie. Chiron nods and looks to Travis who unzips the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. This reveals a sword, a knife, and a few canisters that look suspiciously like the flash-bangs Apollo gives his kids on their birthdays.

"Where did you get those?" Theia demands, hands on her hips.

At this, Travis rezips the bag, as he scowls, "My dad gave them to me. Who do you think _invented_ them for your dad? My dad is also the god of inventions and technology, in case you forgot."

Theia opens her mouth to say something, but I give her a look that suggests she should not. She looks at me as if to accuse me of taking sides, yet remains silent, anyway.

This isn't exactly the best way to start out a quest, but…

Chiron turns to me next, and I sigh as I unzip my own duffel bag to reveal my sword.

In reality, I hate swords. I can't use a sword worth anything— on my end of summer reports, I get a C+ for lack of focus— but I can't very easily smuggle a bow and arrows into the Empire State Building.

Chiron's eyebrows rise slightly, clearly surprised by my choice of weapons. Instead of saying anything of it, he looks at the three of us as if he'll never see us again and smiles sadly.

"Before you embark on this quest, I have a gift for each of you."

It is at this point that I realize he has had a backpack slung over his shoulder the whole time. How could I have missed that? Gee thanks, ADHD.

Once again, he looks to Theia first. He slings the backpack around and unzips it, pulling out two shiny celestial bronze sais.

"These are for you, Theia."

Theia's eyes get huge. She had wanted those exact sais since she'd seen them in the marketplace on our field trip to Olympus before the second Titan War.

She takes them from Chiron's hand as if she's afraid that they might break, but after staring at them a moment, she looks up at Chiron and smiles gratefully.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Oh! I almost forgot. Those have been charmed by Ares himself so that, much like Percy's 'pen', no matter how far away you throw these weapons, they will always return to you after a short span of time."

I wonder how exactly Chiron managed that, but then I remember how proud Ares was about Clarisse. He probably told Chiron that he owed him a favor for teaching his little warrior how to fight a drakon. Who knows? It's Chiron. Honestly, anything is possible.

Theia, on the other hand, probably doesn't even think about it, though, because she just grins widely, obviously liking the idea of charmed sais. She stares at them a moment longer before putting the sais away and hugging Chiron. This done, she walks to the van, opens the door, and climbs in, giving Argus a wary hello.

Chiron next looks to Travis.

"You, I had a much less difficult time finding something for seeing as your father already had it taken care of."

Travis looks slightly surprised, not that I can blame him.

"Dad?"

"Indeed. He left these with me for you or your brother not long after the second Titan War. He told me that they were to be given to you or your brother in the event that you might need them. Now seems appropriate."

Chiron nods, once more reaching into the pack, this time presenting a small pouch and a pair of black high top sneakers with the design of wings on each side.

Travis and I exchange looks. We hadn't been with the victims of the last shoe incident, but the actual victims had told the entire camp about the shoes. Grover had been especially unimpressed with them…

Seeing the look the two of us make at the sight of the shoes, he smiles.

"He thought you might be suspicious of them so he instructed me to tell you not to worry; these _won't_ drag you to the dark depths of Tartarus. They are perfectly safe."

Travis takes the shoes, slightly more reassured, and then takes the pouch, the latter of which he looks over curiously.

"What's in this?"

"Smoke bombs, I believe your father said. _Not_ to be used for pranks," Chiron finishes upon seeing the gears turning in the mischievous imp's head.

Travis slumps and whines for a minute, reminding me very much of a five year old once more.

After he gets that out of his system, he unzips his duffel bag and places the items inside before zipping it back, shaking Chiron's hand— because 'hugging is for girls'—and then walking past to join Theia in the van.

And then the centaur's eyes settle on me and, for a moment, I would believe it if he had told me he was five million years old. His eyes have this look as though he has lived an eternity, which I suppose he has, but… He just looks so _old_. Something Chiron almost never looks.

"And you, m'dear," he says finally, removing the last item from the bag. He holds it out for me to see and I can tell that it is a celestial bronze cylinder that looks suspiciously like a hair clip. "This is very special. Lord Hephaestus himself made it many centuries ago for Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. It is a concealed weapon. One that, I believe, will prove quite useful to you."

I have to admit. I am skeptically intrigued. A hair clip?

"How does it work?"

"It is charmed so that when you take it from your hair and hold it in your hand, you imagine any _handheld_ weapon and it becomes that weapon with the clip as the handle or grip. Try it," he says, handing it to me. I take it from him, wrap my hand around it, and picture a bow. Almost in the blink of an eye, it has changed to it.

My breath catches in my throat.

"Wow…" is the most intelligent thing I seem capable of saying at the moment.

He chuckles.

"Yes, I suppose 'wow' covers it. Now to revert it, you simply imagine it as it was before."

I do so and it immediately returns to being a hair clip. With a smile, I look up at Chiron.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome. This should allow you to use a bow and arrows rather than that sword. I have already put a quiver full of arrows in the van."

I nod, then look down at the 'hairclip' and back at him.

"Can you help me with it?" I ask turning and holding it up to him over my shoulder.

"Of course."

He takes the clip from me, and then his calloused fingers brush the back of my neck as he fastens the clip around my thick blonde hair.

"There you go," he finishes.

I turn around to look at him once more. Chiron. The ancient trainer of heroes. My adoptive father. The first person who had ever cared anything about my well-being.

I blink back tears—now is _not_ the time—and throw my arms around him in a tight hug. He seems surprised momentarily, probably due to the fact that he knows about my dislike for any kind of physical contact beyond hand-holding.

After overcoming the initial shock, he puts his strong arms around me, as if to protect me from the dangers he knows I'll face.

"I'll miss you," I say quietly.

"Be safe, Nakita," he relies just as quietly, almost sadly as if he's already thinking of what he'll say at my eulogy. "Be safe."

"I will," I reply as we both step back.

"C'mon, Kita!" Travis yells from the van. "We gotta get going!"

"He's quite right, m'dear. It is important that you leave now," he adds, blinking twice before looking back at me. "You must arrive at the Place of the Muses quickly."

"Olympus."

"Yes. As the prophecy states, they will know the reason for your quest."

"Alright… Bye…" I say before running to the car and shoving Travis out of the way so that I can get inside. In the son of Hermes' haste to leave, he must have forgotten that neither he nor I can phase through solid objects, and, therefore, forgotten that he was standing in the way of me getting into the van.

Even before the door shuts completely, Argus begins driving. I absentmindedly find myself hoping that an Olympian doesn't appear out of nowhere.

I shiver remembering back to my first driving lesson with Argus… That is why Lord Hermes is now very careful about 'appearing' in camp. Dealing with a wrecked camp van, broken-armed Argus, an injured camper—namely me with my forehead gashed open— and a worried Chiron is not something I suppose he wishes to repeat... For that matter, neither do I…

I shrug off the feeling and stare out the back window of the van until Chiron is out of view, and then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Travis smiling reassuringly at me.

"We'll be back before you know it."

"Yeah. You're right," I smile back, though I am not entirely certain.

As I stare out my window and absently twirl my bracelet, I begin to wonder what the Fates have in store for us…

* * *

**Well, some of you know what's going to happen. Some of you do not. But I don't think _any_ of you know the twists and turns that are in store. Even if you read to the point I got to on the original edition. Glad none of my readers are Apollo or Rachel. Haha. ^_^**

**~Kanae~**


	5. Pros and Cons of Smiting

Chapter Five: Pros and Cons of Smiting

With Argus driving, we screech to a halt in front of the Empire State Building in no time at all.

Quite seriously, unless you're stupid, fearless, an immortal, or all of the above, riding in a car that Argus is driving is the most terrifying experience of your _life_ and certainly not one you wish to repeat.

By the time I finally gets the van door to open, Theia practically throws herself outside and onto the sidewalk. This draws the attention of random passersby and busybodies, but she doesn't really seem to care.

In the rearview mirror, I see Argus raise an eyebrow.

"My driving's not that bad."

I smile apologetically before shoving Travis out the door and bailing out.

Now out on terra firma once more, we grab our packs out of the van.

I have a backpack and a satchel. The backpack contains several drachmas, American money, ambrosia, and other necessary items while the satchel is really my quiver full of celestial bronze arrows along with a few silver arrows. Never know when those might come in handy.

Once we each have our packs, we say good-bye to Argus while trying desperately not to betray the sheer terror that is slowly working its way down to fear and eventually just to a horrible memory of the ride here. Though I'm not sure if we accomplish our goal, we shut the van door and watch as Argus speeds off, tires screeching as he turns a corner.

As soon as he is out of sight, Theia shivers.

"Never again. Do you two hear me? _Never_. I swear on the river Styx that I am _never_ going to ride in a car that Argus is driving, _**ever**_ again."

A distant roll of thunder in the slightly darkening skies informs us that, whether she had meant it or not, the River had heard her.

On that slightly ominous and foreboding note, we walk through the doors of the Empire State Building and, without a moment's hesitation, approach the guard reading at the front desk.

"Excuse me?" I say as politely as I can manage. He ignores me.

Other than Travis, I might be one of the hardest people to upset; care to guess one of the few things that will upset me? I _hate_ being blatantly ignored.

"Excuse me," I repeat, forcing the book down onto the desk and holding it there.

He begrudgingly tears his eyes away from the book and looks up.

"Yeah? Can I help you?" he asks more out of annoyance than any actual desire to assist us.

"Excuse me, Mr…" I glance down at his name tag and after a few seconds, the letters stop swimming around long enough for me to read 'Addams'.

"Yes, Mr. Addams, we need to get to Olympus. It's very important," I explain, trying to sound as serious and professional as one can possibly sound upon stating that one's destination is, in fact, the home of the Greek gods. I mean, _apparently_ people hearing this tend to think the person saying it is not quite right upstairs. Go figure.

He stares at us blankly for a moment as if to suggest that:

A.) I'm crazy.

B.) I'm stupid.

C.) He is just a mortal.

_OR_

D.) All of the above

"What are you talking about? Olympus? As if. There's no such thing. This is not April Fool's Day, kids. Now scram."

I would've believed that he was just a regular mortal, too, if it hadn't been for me looking at Theia to see that her right eye is twitching and she's gritting her teeth. These are classic signs that she has just heard a lie.

I learned early on in our friendship that you do not so much as exaggerate the truth to or around Theia. Because of who her father is—Apollo is also the god of truth—she's like a human lie detector. A human lie detector that gets very, shall we say, '_upset_' when being lied to.

In one smooth motion, she leans over the desk remarkably threateningly for a sixteen- year-old and glares at the guard.

"I _really_ don't like being lied to, so, for your sake, I'm going to assume that you just _misunderstood_ my friend. We. need. to. get. to. Olympus. Like, _now_. Clear enough for you?"

The guard swallows nervously, but tries to hold up his façade of being tough and intimidating. It would be so embarrassing to run away screaming like a little girl _because_ of a little girl… Well, littler than him anyway.

"Look, kid. I—"

"They're with me," says an annoyed voice from behind us.

All three of us turn to see a very familiar figure walk out of the elevator and over to where we stand.

"Hey, Mr. D…" Travis nervously greets him.

I honestly can't blame him for being nervous. I would be too if I'd sent Mr. D a wine catalogue in the mail a little over a week ago. Yeah… Mr. D didn't take that so well…

Mr. D looks at him disdainfully.

"Yes. Hello to you, too, Trey."

"It's Travis," the guiltily nervous son of Hermes complains under his breath, while looking at the floor, clearly finding his black high tops highly interesting.

Thankfully for him, Mr. D is paying him no attention but is instead focusing his glare on the guard who now definitely wants to run away screaming.

"There's no time for your silliness right now, Alans," he scowls, butchering the guard's last name and snatching a security card off his desk.

He then hurries over to the elevator while Travis, Theia, and I exchange glances. Travis shrugs and we quickly decide to follow, not wanting to further irritate the already irritated god.

As soon as we step into the elevator completely, we realize someone else has stepped in behind us.

Upon realizing this fact and the doors closing entirely, I see Mr. D's eyebrows rise dangerously.

This poor unsuspecting little old lady standing in front of me is in severe danger of being eaten by killer grapevines or being thrown into a madness which only Mr. D has the ability to send upon someone. The worst part is that she doesn't even know what she has done by stepping into this particular elevator with these particular occupants.

Mr. D is clearly in no mood whatsoever to have to wait on this mortal woman to get off the elevator before being able to put the security card into the slot, and I just know someone's grandma is going to get it if Travis, Theia, and I don't think fast. Glancing at them, I know they realize it, too.

Coming to this conclusion, an idea strikes me even as the elevator starts to move up, and I wink at Travis and Theia. They'll know to follow my lead.

And so, turning to the old woman, I mentally prepare myself for the crime against my nature that I am about to commit, and then I address her.

"Like, can you _believe _that jerk over there?" I ask in my best 'Drew' voice possible without me wanting to slap myself. When the old lady turns to me and I know I have her attention, I point at Travis and continue.

"Two years. Two years we've been dating and he forgets our anniversary. Our anniversary of all things!"

"Or maybe you've forgotten when it is," Travis counters, his voice serious, yet sounding quite irritated. "Our anniversary is two days from today. Two whole DAYS."

"I did not forget our anniversary. It is today."

"Not like it'll matter much if you keep acting like this. We may not make it till our _real_ anniversary. You know, the one that's two days from now?"

At this point, I angrily spin to glare daggers at him.

"Are you threatening to break up with me? Like, who do you think you are?"

"One more word from being single again, obviously. I knew I was making a mistake when I asked you out."

"So is that all I am? Just one of your _many_ mistakes in life?"

"Soon to be a past mistake," he retorts humorlessly before looking at Theia. "Hey there, baby. What's your name?"

"Are you _SERIOUSLY_ hitting on another girl right in _front_ of me? And how old is she anyway? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

At this I have to restrain a smile because I hear the woman click a button, a quick glance out of the corner of my eye tells me its two floors up from here rather than the much further up floor that she had originally picked.

"I'm sixteen, thank you," Theia snaps back, clearly enjoying the performance and the reluctant audience member. That's the child of Apollo in her, I guess. Loves to put on a show. "And seems to me like anything would be better then dealing with your attitude. Seriously is she always like this?" she asks Travis.

"Every day of the world," he sighs, throwing his hand upwards as if he is glad that someone finally agrees with him.

"It's a wonder you've managed to stay with her as long as two years."

"I know, right?"

"Listen, little girl," I begin, but the elevator stops, the doors open, and the old lady practically runs out.

I spout off a few more random insults for good measure before the doors close at which time the three of us share a look and then burst out laughing.

"Well, I can see now that threatening you three with insanity will do me no good at all. Perhaps I'll threaten turning you into lovely, silent grapevines next," Mr. D says.

Even though there is a scowl on his face, I'm almost certain that somewhere deep down, he wants to laugh, too.

Nevertheless, the three of us quickly stifle our laughter and the elevator falls silent as Mr. D inserts the card he took from the guard's desk and a red button appears out of nowhere. Just _pop_! There it is. The rather irked Mr. D practically jabs the button with his finger and the elevator starts to move up.

A new song starts playing through the speakers of the small area, and I strangely observe that the song is Michael Bolton's '_Said I Loved You… But I Lied' _which just happens to be one of my favorite songs of his… Which I happen to find myself humming along to only _after_ the other three occupants of the elevator throw me questioning looks.

I immediately stop humming and stare at the floor.

Only after several more awkward moments tick by do the doors finally ding and slide open. Everyone quickly exits the elevator.

Almost immediately, we are surrounded by sprites and spirits running around in a panic while the minor gods whisper in groups off to the sides. Mr. D begins to walk purposefully up the stairs leading to the summit of Mount Olympus. We follow quickly, not wanting to get lost in the chaos and pandemonium that Olympus is in currently.

"Um… Mr. D?" Travis begins, looking around at the scene.

"What, Trent?" Mr. D snaps.

Travis sighs, but continues without correcting him.

"What's going on?"

At his question, thunder rolls from the snowy peak of Olympus. Obviously Zeus is upset about whatever's going on. Very upset.

Mr. D scowls, whether it's at the thunder or Travis' question I am unsure. But either way, it's not a good sign.

"Well, you'll find out soon enough."

"Can't you just tell us?" Theia asks.

"No," he answers curtly, maneuvering through the pandemonium quite well for a big, fat guy.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"You don't know either, do you? Not exactly anyway," Theia continues.

At this statement, he clearly gets flustered.

"I am a god. Why would I not know?"

"Because only the Muses do," I reply thoughtfully, not really addressing anyone in particular, just thinking aloud. I hadn't even realized I'd spoken until Mr. D snorts.

"You heroes think you know everything, don't you?"

Another angry roll of thunder sounds, this time much closer, and I realize that down below us, far below on the streets of the city, people must be running for cover and turning on the weather channel, trying to figure out what is going on with the freak storm.

"Does Zeus know?" I ask.

"No. 'Only the Muses do'," he scoffs, repeating my own words back to me.

Theia looks up at the black clouds before returning her attention to Mr. D.

"Then why is Zeus so upset?"

Mr. D stops in his tracks and spins around angrily, "Because, you irksome children, he knows _something_ is wrong and whenever he knows _something_ is wrong, it tends to _slightly_ upset him. Will that be all?" he finishes ranting, his eyes nearly glowing.

We all nod and look at our shoes, not wanting to look at him for the fear that he might go into his true form any moment thereby incinerating any and all mortals or demigods who might catch sight of him.

Instead, he seems to regain some control and wheels around and stalks up the steps. The three of us exchange nervous glances and quickly catch up while still maintaining a slight distance.

Needless to say, the whole rest of the way up the mountain, Mr. D is asked absolutely nothing else. Nothing. By anyone. Not us and certainly not any of the sprites and lesser gods that had been around us whom Mr. D scared into their respective houses.

Several more silent, tense moments pass before we can see the doors leading into the throne room. Quite honestly, I don't think I have ever been so happy to see such an intimidating sight.

Upon reaching the monolithic doors, Mr. D says something under his breath and the doors leading into the council room open. He boldly walks in, clearly happy to be back.

We warily exchange glances and then follow him into the room.

Thirteen huge thrones tower over us and I strangely wonder if this is what ants see. What they feel like. Insignificant. Overpowered. Awe-inspired. Terrified.

And then that thought is shattered by the sight of three very not happy, 15 foot tall Olympians all turning their attention to us simultaneously.

Zeus, Poseidon, and Athena.

Mr. D leads us forward and, a little surprisingly, stands with us rather than with his fellow Olympians. Theia, Travis, and I once more trade nervous looks before quickly kneeling, our eyes on the Olympians' feet.

"Rise, young heroes," we hear Athena say, her voice anxious.

We do so and I can't help but get nervous as another blinding flash of lightning tears across the sky. A glance at Zeus assures me that one wrong word will get any of the three of us _smited_….

"I told you they would get here, Brother," Poseidon smiles as he looks down at us.

"Well… If they hadn't gotten here when they did, Chiron would have been sending us new heroes. Maybe some that know how to arrive on time," Zeus growls in reply, an ominous roll of thunder sounding.

As the three of us try to refrain from flinching at the obvious threat, Athena looks to Zeus.

"Father, may we return to the matter at hand?" Athena questions.

He sighs heavily and nods. Almost immediately, all three huge Olympians begin to shrink down to a 'normal' height, though still towering over even Travis and me.

As soon as they have done this, they all take a step toward the three of us, and I suddenly have to fight back the childish urge to run out of the room and hide. By the looks on Travis and Theia's faces, I'm sure that—were I to run—they wouldn't be too terribly far behind me.

"Heroes, Chiron has sent you," Athena says.

There is a moment of silence in which I realize that they are waiting for some sort of reply, and with me leading the quest, that means it is I who must speak.

"Yes, Lady Athena. The Oracle prophesied to Chiron and me."

Suddenly, they all look even more upset than before, if that is at all possible, and they exchange worried glances.

"What was prophesied?" Poseidon asks anxiously.

This confuses me slightly. Shouldn't they have already known what the prophecy said?

I push the thought from my mind as I repeat the Prophecy to them.

Before I even finish, Poseidon begins looking to Zeus, but waits until I have recited the last line to speak.

"I am unsure what to make of this, Brother, but it troubles me greatly indeed."

Mr. D glances at us before turning his attention back to his fellow gods.

"It seems that we must consult the Muses on this matter."

"Yes," begins Athena, "the Keepers of Song and Art clearly indicate them, but why?"

"Well, rather than debate it some more, why don't we just ask them? We're wasting time right now," Theia states boldly and bluntly. Leave it to Theia.

Travis immediately elbows her, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as he hisses, "Are you crazy talking to them like that? Need I remind you that Zeus has a tendency to strike down children of Apollo who step out of their place?"

By the end of his statement, all the eyes of the Immortals had shifted to Theia, and Zeus is clearly not amused.

"You dare speak out in such a manner to us, mortal?" he bellows, the sound reverberating off the marble floors and columns.

I know he's going to incinerate her. I just know it. He's going to smite her with the Master Bolt and kill her, but I can't lose one of my best friends. I have to do something. Please Athena, let my words be wisely chosen.

"Lord Zeus, please forgive my friend's impetuous statement. Youth often clouds one's judgment," I say quickly. "She is merely anxious to come to a solution for this. We all remember the last Great Prophecy and are hoping to avoid such a tragedy this time."

Theia glares angrily at the floor. I know she doesn't like what I just said, but it was necessary. At the moment, it doesn't matter if she is happy with me or not, just that she is alive and breathing.

"Well spoken, child. Well spoken indeed," Athena smiles at me, and I realize that she had answered my silent plea. With one small nod of her head, she turns her attention to Zeus. "I believe we all wish to avoid the events of the last Prophecy."

"Please, Brother. Quiet your anger. The girl meant no harm. Let us focus on the situation."

"As much as I would love to rid myself of one brat at least," Mr. D sneers, "it would only be an inconvenience to send for another one to take Mia's place."

Zeus seems to debate internally the pros and cons of smiting her anyway before sighing angrily and looking at the three of them.

"As you three wish it. Well then, What is our next course of action?"

"I say we send the heroes to search out the Muses and then—after they have heard them—have them send the Muses to us so that we may be informed as well," suggests Athena.

Mr. D nods.

"I second it."

Zeus looks to his brother now.

"And you, Poseidon?"

"Yes, I agree. This will allow the heroes more time to act without having to report back to us their findings."

"Then it is settled," says Zeus as he turns his gaze to us. "Depart, heroes and search out the Muses. Send them to us once you have heard the trouble."

We all bow to them and quickly scurry from the room.

* * *

**Well, there's another chapter and two more will follow directly. :)**

**~Kanae~**


	6. Olympian History

Chapter Six: Olympian History

I don't think it really needs telling that we run as fast as our legs will carry us and then try to run still faster.

We had already checked the amphitheatre and the many pavilions in which the nine 'Keepers of Song and Art' sometimes spend their time. We have one last place to check on Olympus before having to look elsewhere. The Temple of Apollo.

We arrive there in no time. It's probably one of the most beautiful yet flashy temples on Olympus, definitely befitting the god for which it was built. Annabeth had indeed done an incredible job rebuilding.

On Olympus, temples are the equivalent of what houses are for us mortals. Whenever they aren't out cursing someone or blessing them or 'visiting' mortals, they will be in their temples on Olympus.

As soon as we get to the steps of the huge building, upset cries and whispers reach my ears. I look to Theia and Travis, making sure that they had heard it also. Judging by the looks on their faces, one could infer that they had.

But the weirdest part is that—as soon as we reach the door—the whispering stops and is replaced by a collective gasp from inside and a muffled, 'she's here!'

Not a second later, the door is thrown open, allowing us a view of nine women. Their eyes observe the three of us quickly but seem to settle on me.

It's odd because… I don't know… It just _is_. Maybe they know that I'm the leader of the group for this quest, but it seems like… Who knows… Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

"You're all here," one of them says, scrolls in hand.

"Come in," another instructs, her face veiled by… a veil.

They all part like curtains being opened and allow us to walk into Apollo's 'house'. The first things I notice are the disco floor, the walls lined with every CD, 8-track, and record known to man—along with some that aren't—and the various paintings covering everything else.

Personally, I love painting—though I fail epically at it, I find it fun—and I can spot good artists and good artworks when I see them.

This artwork, though… It's better than good. It's _flawless_. Absolutely flawless. The amazing works in front of me literally send my mind reeling. It takes me a moment, in my addled state, to realize that Apollo himself must have painted them. Sorry Michelangelo, da Vinci, and Van Gogh. You have all been obliterated from my mind because all I can do is stare at the perfection painted right onto the walls.

Sunrises. Sunsets. Scenery. Landscapes. Nature. Animals. People. Places. So many details and colors that my brain is overwhelmed.

"Wow…" I manage to breathe as I realize that the Muses are staring at me expectantly.

Even with my rather idiotic lack of descriptive English, they seem to all smile approvingly as Travis and Theia—mouths agape—nod their agreement.

As I continue to stare at the walls in awe, one particular painting catches my eyes. Without a word, I walk toward it, my eyebrows furrowing. For some inexplicable reason, I feel drawn to it.

It's a painting of a beautiful young woman. Truthfully, 'beautiful' doesn't even begin to describe her but I seem to be unable to come across a better word. Her long blonde hair reaches down to the middle of her back. Tan skin frames beautiful brown eyes and a petite mouth drawn into a bright smile. She wears traditional Greek attire that is a dark green with yellow trimmings on the edges. Behind her is some sort of temple, also in the traditional Greek style.

I find myself taking a step closer. Who is this woman?

Behind me, I hear someone nervously clearing their throat, causing me out of instinct to turn and find the source. Surprisingly, it is one of the Muses, the tiny one with black hair. She seems to look anxiously at the veiled Muse before realizing that I am looking at her. Almost instantaneously, her face goes a bright red and the veiled Muse gives her a warning look.

This exchange puzzles me but I do not have time to think about it because a voice breaks the silence.

"Come. Sit," a red-haired Muse tells us, gesturing to the super-stuffed floor cushions in what appears to be the entertainment room, complete with a sound system that I am sure can blast all the way down to the busy streets of NYC if it is turned up full volume.

"Yes, ma'am," the three of us say in unison.

Once we sit, they do also.

As I look at them, I can't help but marvel at how ridiculously Disney fails at guessing things. The nine women sitting in front of me are nothing like the five Disney Muses.

Because I am a Greek mythology aficionado, it is not difficult to identify each of them by their symbol of power that they hold in their hands.

The woman with beautiful dancing blue eyes and blonde hair is Terpsichore, Muse of Dance. I know this because she holds a lyre. The raven-haired woman holding the scrolls is Clio, Muse of History. Calliope holds a writing tablet, establishing her as the Muse of Epic Poetry. She is tall and skinny with brown hair; while Erato, Muse of Lyric Poetry is much smaller and has skin as pale as porcelain with hair as dark as tar. Her eyes are two blue orbs, so blue that the sky is jealous of them. That would finally explain why so many lyric poets write about blue eyes. She holds what I believe to be a cithara, an ancient Greek instrument similar to a lyre.

Beside Erato is the veiled woman, Polyhymnia, Muse of Choral Poetry. The woman beside her whose face is hidden by the tragedy mask is Melpomene, Muse of Tragedy; while her counterpart, Thalia's namesake, wears the comedy mask. The red-haired woman beside Thalia with a compass in her hand is Urania, Muse of Astronomy. The last woman who is holding an Aulos, another ancient Grecian instrument, is Euterpe, Muse of Music. Her long blonde hair drapes and flows freely over her pale shoulders just as gently as a lilting melody in a summer breeze.

Yes, Disney does indeed _fail_. The five Disney Muses had been border-line ridiculous looking. True it had been for the purpose of the movie and partly based from the Grecian style of drawing, but… They couldn't have been any further from the truth.

The nine Muses now in front of me are stunningly beautiful women. Just being in the room with them makes me self-consciously aware of all my faults.

My bitten off fingernails that, if they haven't been bitten off, are chipped and broken off from hero training. The random split ends and dead ends in my hair that result from me not getting it cut often enough. My thick unruly blonde bangs that refuse to stay off my face. My rather unusual height. The several ugly scars on my back and legs, all obtained from the second Titan War. The much smaller scar in line with the corner of my nose, just above the right side of my lip.

This sudden awareness of every last one of my flaws quite understandably—in my mind— makes me bummed out.

They're flawless. All nine of them. Just as flawless as Apollo's paintings. I glance at Theia and I know she's thinking along the same lines as I am. No wonder guys always talk about their Muse inspiring them…

Speaking of guys, I turn my gaze to Travis.

He's a child of Hermes. Children of Hermes are known to like staring blankly at beautiful women and quite possibly hitting on them. With these thoughts in mind, I'm almost certain that he'll be staring at them, but instead, I'm surprised to see him looking at me, concern etched on his face.

Wow…. I must really look pathetic right now for him to look at me that way. I try to smile reassuringly, but in all honestly, it probably looks more like a grimace and he sees through it immediately. His eyebrows furrow and it seems as if concern is most pronounced in his brown eyes, but at the same time, I can almost see something else there… But what?

I quickly look away and back to the Muses who are, for some reason, trading knowing looks and… did Erato just _giggle_?

I force these observations from my mind as I look at them, once more fighting back self-consciousness. I'm not worried about how I look any other time, why now?

_But there are more important matters right now. _I remind myself. _Matters that only they can clear up. _

"The Oracle of Delphi prophesied to Chiron and me. Within the Prophecy, there was a line that says, '_The Keepers of Song and Art will know As to why the heroes go._' We came here to Olympus to find the nine of you."

"Well, I know nothing of a prophecy," starts Calliope, "but a great tale, indeed, I can sense unfolding. One that my dear Homer would have been honored to write."

"That's comforting," Travis says sarcastically, Ironically, he had had me explain the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ to him less than a month ago. He had been a little less than impressed upon hearing the trials and tribulations that Odysseus and all the others involved went through.

"What we _do_ know is that something is amiss," Urania replies, a worried look on her face.

"What?" asks Theia.

"Well," Polyhymnia begins, "we haven't seen Lord Apollo since Lord Hermes convinced him to not incinerate that boy who insulted him."

My fist twitches at the mention of _Marcus_. I suddenly feel like punching him again.

"You sure he's not out 'visiting' someone?" Theia questions slightly bitterly.

She resents—greatly—the gods' constant ramblings, and she certainly notices the fact that her cabin is one of the most full of all.

It's Calliope's turn to talk.

"That's what we thought at first, but… We still hadn't heard from him last night so we went searching for Lord Hermes to see if he knew where Lord Apollo might be, but we couldn't find him either. We asked around and the last person to have seen either of them was Maia, Lord Hermes' mother. Apparently, Lord Apollo and Lord Hermes were planning on going somewhere to hang out and relax after the issue with Lord Hermes' child. The two of them have been good friends for a long, long time and they often hang out when there is nothing more important to do.

"But, after our night long search, just before Eos—the titan goddess of dawn—was leaving to spread the dawn in preparation for Lord Apollo, we saw Hemera, the primeval goddess of daylight and the sun. We hadn't seen her in _ages_. We approached her and asked why she was here. She told us that she was once again needed to drive the sun chariot.

"We asked her if she knew of where Lord Apollo might be and she said that she didn't know either, but that she had risen from her deep slumber to see that the sun needed to rise."

Now, Clio begins to speak.

"You must know, many of the primeval gods and goddesses went to sleep eons ago when the Titans began their rule, and have remained in their slumber for as long as their jobs were fulfilled. But now, not only has Hemera appeared, but so also has Arke— the goddess who had been the messenger of the Titans. She, the twin sister of Iris, had also been asleep, but has awoken to carry out the tasks and deliveries of Lord Hermes," finishes Clio, having filled us in on Olympian history that we previously had not known.

"So… Wait," I reply as I try to gather my thoughts. "The ancient gods and goddesses from before the Olympians that rule now didn't fade, they… slept?"

"Some of them. Not wanting to be forgotten or to fade, they slept. Hoping to one day be useful again," answers Clio.

"And for two of them to appear…" begins Theia, her eyes widening at what this seems to imply. "That means…"

"Dad…" Travis breathes, practically in shock.

I look to the Muses, my mouth agape, also having a hard time processing all of this information, but not liking any of the conclusions that my mind is coming to. "You mean…"

Melpomene closes her eyes, before nodding slowly, sadly. She then looks me dead in the eyes and says, "We believe something may have happened to Lord Hermes and Lord Apollo."

Shock.

That's all that registers.

Complete and utter shock.

Hermes… and Apollo… Gone?

Travis is the first to be able to speak.

"You mean… My dad is… is…"

"No, no, no!" Erato exclaims quickly, realizing where our thoughts must have concluded. "Don't misunderstand us! This doesn't mean that they're gone!"

At her statement, I release a breath I didn't realize I had been holding and a knot unties in my stomach.

"So what _does_ it mean?" I ask.

"It means that they are currently unable to carry out their duties. They may simply be captured."

" 'Simply'?" Theia practically growls. "_Simply_? How is that '_**simply'**_? My dad and Travis' dad are missing! There's nothing 'simple' about that!"

"Dad…" Travis repeats in a daze, staring at the floor.

As I look at him, I feel so bad. I'm almost happy that I don't know who my parent is in this moment.

Suddenly I realize something.

Despite how little the gods participate in their children's lives and how much their children pretend not to care about them in return, they really do care. Travis and Theia's reactions are enough to prove this.

Clearly, each of them care a lot about their parents, whether they'll admit it or not. Travis might be a little more willing to admit that information than Theia, but it is perfectly obvious that despite this fact, they both care a lot more than they'd be willing to let on to anyone, including me.

"This is… This is…" Theia fumbles for words that her currently jumbled mind is unable to attain before spinning around on Erato who flinches back, clearly startled and quite possibly a little afraid as well. Apollo and his children _are_ known for having a black temper when provoked after all. "How can you be so… so nonchalant about this?"

"Theia," I say, placing my hand on her shoulder in an effort to calm her.

Almost immediately, a sharp pain flashes up my arm and I pull back to cradle it. For a moment, I can only blink at her in surprise.

She had hit my arm away.

"Don't you _dare_ 'Theia' me! My dad is missing! Even if he doesn't give a dented drachma about me or my siblings he's still my dad! But you and _them_ are acting like it doesn't matter! Well maybe it doesn't matter to _you_, Ms. Orphan, but it does matter to me!" she yells.

The silence that descends on the room is almost tangible. Travis and the Muses are all staring at her in shock and my own mind is reeling. Ms. Orphan?... She called me… called me…

Even before her eyes widen in shock when she realizes what she has said, I'm taking a step back and I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes.

"Nakita… I—" she breathes as she tries to reach out to me.

I take another step back, moving just out of her reach.

"Yeah. You're right. I am an orphan. And no, I probably can't know what you're feeling. But I do know that yelling at the Muses won't get anything done, and it certainly won't find your dad or Travis' dad," I begin, one stubborn tear falling. "And bringing up obvious and painful truths and throwing them in my face won't help anything either."

Without even realizing it, I am out of Apollo's Temple and running. I don't even care about the minor gods and sprites staring when I speed past them, tears streaming down my face as I continue to cradle my stinging left arm.

Shock. Shock and hurt.

That's all that registers, and before I even think about what I'm doing, I've run into an empty courtyard with a fountain and I'm throwing a coin into the water.

"O goddess, please accept my offering. Chiron. Camp Half-Blood."

The words spill out so quickly, I don't even have time to think about what I plan on telling him. Why am I even calling him? To worry him?

Tears streaming down my face, I watch as the water of the fountain shimmers and Chiron's face appears.

He's sitting behind a desk in his 'wheelchair' right now, and he's looking down at a book reading as he begins to speak.

"Well, hello , m'dear. I didn't expe—" he stops mid-word when he looks up from the book to see my face. Immediately, he slams the book shut and puts it down, an alarmed look on his face. "Nakita, what's wrong?"

I realize what he must be thinking, fearing. I never cry like this. Never. Right now, his mind must be racing through the worst right possible reasons for me to be crying.

"There's… It's not… No one's hurt or anything… I just…"

His face relaxes a little, but he still seems worried.

"Deep breaths, m'dear. Deep breaths. Now, try to tell me what is wrong. I cannot attempt to help unless you do."

I take a few deep breaths and try my hardest to compose myself.

"We… We went to go see the Muses and they told us… Told us that Hermes and Apollo are missing."

"Missing?" he asks, brows furrowing. "How so?"

"As in Hemera is driving the sun chariot, and Arke is delivering mail."

"Oh dear. This certainly is worse than we first suspected. And Travis and Theia were with you when you were told this?"

I nod.

"Yes, sir."

"And how did they react to the news?"

"Well, Travis was dazed or whatever, but Theia…"

I have to stop for a moment as another tear escapes and rolls down my cheek.

"What about Theia?" he prompts gently.

"She… She started yelling at no one… everyone. I don't know… She was yelling at the Muses and I put my hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down. I didn't see how it was fair for them to be yelled at. They didn't do anything."

"What happened after you placed your hand on her shoulder?"

"She hit it away."

"Let me see," he instructs in the same way he used to when I was younger and would fall and skin my knee racing with the other kids.

I glance down at my red and slightly swollen arm. How would he react? Theia wouldn't be in trouble would she?

"Nakita," he says in the voice he'd used back then when I wouldn't show him my knee or other injury like he'd asked me to the first time. The same voice that always made me show him regardless of how insignificant. Clearly, it's just as effective today for I hesitantly raise my arm into view.

I see his eyes widen in surprise and I start talking quickly.

"She didn't mean to! She was just upset and she just… forgot for a minute…" I say, glancing down for a moment before looking back up to see him close his eyes and nod.

He opens his eyes again and asks seriously, "And what happened next?"

"She…" The tears threaten to spill over once more. "She yelled at me. She said that the Muses and I were acting like… like it didn't matter."

"And?"

I bite my lip as more tears try to escape. "She… She said that it probably didn't matter to me and…"

"Yes?"

"She—"

"To continue message, please throw in another coin," says a voice.

I pull another coin from my backpack and toss it in. Having done so, Chiron continues,

" 'She' what?"

"… She called me Ms. Orphan," I answer and then more words come spilling out along with some more tears. "I know that's what a lot of people call me sometimes, and that's practically what Marcus said not even two days ago, but… This is Theia! When _she_ said it... I mean… I know that this is stupid and selfish for me to be here crying when there are two major gods missing—my friends' parents at that— not to mention possibly an impending Apocalypse, but… I just… I just feel like… like…"

I can't finish as more tears begin to stream down my face. What is wrong with me? Why am I crying like this? How many times had I heard 'Ms. Orphan' in conjunction with my name? Now just because Theia says it, I lose it?

Through the curtain of tears, I see Chiron's face soften.

"You feel unwanted," he supplies.

I can only nod as I bow my head.

How can I be so weak as to be sitting here crying? How selfish? Chiron probably thinks I'm some brat now and for some reason that thought stings even more than Theia's words.

"Nakita. It is not 'stupid' or 'selfish'. You have needed to get this out of your system for quite some time. You have always pushed it off and pretended that it doesn't bother you and, for that reason, I have never said anything to you about it … But, now I believe it is time that I did.

"I cannot even begin to attempt understanding how you feel or why you are still unclaimed, but I know for a fact that it could not be because you are unwanted. I cannot think of anyone who would be ashamed to have you as a daughter. No one. There must be a better reason that that. There has to be. I do not know your parents' reason for it, but I am sure it is not because you are unwanted or because they are ashamed of you. Do you hear me?"

Once more I nod, still trying to stop crying.

"You are one of the most creative, intelligent young women that I have ever had the privilege of teaching and watching grow up, not just in age and height, but mentally as well, and I mean that. There is no one who would be ashamed to call you his or her child. Absolutely no one."

"But—"

He cuts me off, "No one."

As I look up at him, I see this expression on his face that makes me want to believe him, but beyond that, I realize…

All my life, I've been upset because I'm an orphan. And ten years of being at camp and not being claimed has only amplified that, but… All this time… I haven't been alone. Whether my real parent claims more or not, for ten years of my life, I've had a father.

The person who had told me stories of heroes when I was younger. The one who had stitched me up after my first attempt at climbing the wall. The one with whom I'd sit and listen to big band records. Who had taught me how to shoot an arrow from a bow that was a little too bulky for my ten-year-old self. Taught me how to bandage people up when they are hurt. The same who had watched in absolute horror as Argus taught me how to drive. The very same who had seen me off at the border of the camp early this morning and told me to return safely.

Why all of this occurs to me now, I don't know, but it's enough for me to dry my eyes and to look up at him.

"Thank you, Chiron," I say, a small smile having found its way onto my face.

He smiles as well, before once more taking on a serious expression.

"This quest that you, Travis, and Theia have embarked upon will no doubt be dangerous. With Hermes and Apollo missing and the Prophecy having said what it did, this is surely going to be more than just a minor incident. I fear that larger gears are turning than was at first thought. You, Travis, and Theia must be careful, and you must be a strong leader for this quest to end well. You must find Lord Apollo and Lord Hermes quickly, or else the situation might be beyond repair."

My mind drifts to what Grover had told us about Pan.

"_The gods don't 'die'. They fade into nothingness because they lose their will to live anymore._"

I nod, all my tears gone, and a new resolve discovered. I will not allow Travis or Theia to lose their father.

"We'll find them, and we'll save them," I promise.

"I know that you will," he smiles. "Remember what I told you. Return safely. I would hate to have your birthday party without you there."

He is joking, but there is also a seriousness to his voice, a sadness in his eyes. How many birthdays has he celebrated without the person whose birthday it is?

I force a laugh, hoping he does not see that I have caught the undertone of his words, and I nod.

"And I would hate to miss it. We all know what party animals centaurs are." He, too, laughs, perhaps secretly hoping that his cousins hadn't heard about my party.

"Yes, I suppose you are correct."

For a moment, I simply stare into the water because I know what is coming but I do not want to do it. Unfortunately, I know what I must do.

"Well… I need to get back to Travis and Theia now so that we can continue this quest… Goodbye, Chiron…"

He gazes at me with a warm smile on his face.

"Goodbye, my child. I hope to see you again soon."

The water shimmers once more, and I am staring at my own reflection again.

I smile to myself.

"I'll be back soon… dad."

As I sit there staring into the fountain, I can't help but wonder how stupid I am sometimes.

Ten years. Ten years of Chiron probably thinking that I take him for granted. And he'd be right if he had thought that. I'd always thought that I was just another camper to him, but now, I realize he was always just a _little_ more protective of me than anyone else. Always.

If one of the other campers bullied me when I was younger, it was a felony. I remember one of the Apollo boys had to scrub out the guy's bathroom with paintbrush for a month.

Later on in my life, whenever anything attacked the camp during the second Titan War, he would always find me and try to stay with me as much as he possibly could under the circumstances.

All this time… How stupid can one demigod be?

I am not allowed to dwell on these thoughts for long, though, as they are interrupted by noisy footsteps behind me. Even before I turn, I know who it is. His noisy footfalls give him away easily. Sometimes, it's difficult to believe that the god of thieves is his dad…

Then again, the remainder of the time makes it pretty difficult to disbelieve it…

"Hello, Travis," I greet, not turning.

His footsteps falter a second and then continue.

"Hey," he replies softly as he sits down beside me. I turn to look at him finally and I can see that he's worried. "Look… Kita, Theia really didn't mean to say what she did. She's just… worried and upset. That's all. And now she's even more upset not only because she hit you but for what she said. She wanted to come with me to apologize, but…"

"It's okay, Travis. Really. I'm fine now," I smile.

He looks at me quizzically and raises one of his naturally upturned eyebrows.

"You're… fine?"

"At the time, yeah, I was upset, but I know she didn't mean it."

He looks at me as if he's trying to figure out if I'm lying or hiding the truth, but after a moment, he just shakes his head and smirks.

"You have got to be the craziest, most mercurial person in the world."

"Shh! Theia might hear you and realize she's been replaced," I joke.

His smirk broadens, but quickly disappears.

"Kita…" he begins, voice faltering slightly on my name.

"What?" I ask, my own smile gone as soon as I see the expression on his face.

"Do you think that… that my dad is still… You know… Do you think he's okay?"

All I can do is stare at him for a moment.

He has the same look on his face as he did back at camp in the underground room. He must really be worried about his dad. I realize that, for once, I have to play Superman for him.

I stand and smile confidently.

"I'm sure he's fine. And we're going to save him and Apollo. But only if you get up off your lazy butt and help."

He seems to brighten up just a little bit, a ghost of his usual smile appearing. I hold my hand out to him and help him up.

"Thanks, Kita," he says.

I'm not sure whether he means my miniature pep talk or me helping him up but either way, my answer will be the same.

"No problem. Now let's go retrieve Theia and start out on our mission to save Apollo and Hermes," I proclaim holding my fist out.

This time, his grin stretches from ear to ear, a real, genuine smile.

"Right," he replies, bumping my fist.

And this sacred tradition having been done, we begin racing each other back to the Temple of Apollo.

* * *

**One more chapter to follow of old storyline ... :)**

**~Kanae~**


	7. East Bound and Down

Chapter Seven: East Bound and Down

When we reach Apollo's Temple—I win the race, by the way— Theia is outside, pacing. As soon as she sees me, she stops. Not even _just_ stops though. She freezes in her tracks and shrinks a little.

Suddenly, I feel really bad for her. For as long as we've been friends, this is probably the most major incident/fight we've had, and she probably feels like it's her fault.

As I continue walking toward her, I can see her face more clearly. She seems as though she wants to go curl up in a corner and hide.

I try to ease her guilt/fear by smiling as I reach the front of the Temple where she's standing, Travis right behind me.

"You ready to go? The gods can't save themselves," I say cheerily as an indignant roll of thunder sounds off not far from our location.

I glance at the sky and then shrug before looking back to my friend who has the strangest expression on her face. Understandable. Last she had seen of me, I had run off crying.

"Are you… Are you feeling okay?" she asks concernedly.

"Never better," I reply, then mentally slap myself. "Except for the fact that my friends' dads are missing, but we're going to fix that," I tack on quickly not wanting a repeat of earlier.

"You're… sure you're okay?..."

"Yep," I reply, still smiling before glancing around. "Where are the Muses?"

"They said they had told us all they knew and so I told them that Zeus and the others wanted to know and they left."

"Speaking of which," Travis begins, "I think it's time we leave Olympus and go to wherever we need to go."

"The Underworld," Theia says, still looking at me warily, as if any minute now, I'm gonna punch her in the face and yell at her.

I nod.

"Well, we've got a long way to go and a short time to get there, so let's head out."

Travis and Theia both nod, not even catching my Jerry Reed song reference.

Regardless of their tragic failure to catch the reference, we begin our walk toward the stairs so that we can reach the elevator and truly begin our quest.

Just as we're turning the corner of a building trying to get to the steps, another conversation starts up.

"So… If we're going to the Underworld, then that means it's Hades, right?" Theia questions.

The thought had crossed my mind, I must admit, but, honestly, I don't want to believe that it's him. I had been one among the last few left in fighting shape in front of the Empire State Building, at the 'Last Stand' as we campers call it. One of the very ones who would have been slaughtered if Hades hadn't shown up when he did.

I had even fought alongside him. Not long after Kronos had fled into the Empire State Building and Percy had followed, I had been surrounded by monsters. Lord Hades had seen me boxed in and—for whatever reason—he had decided to help me, and had appeared behind me.

We fought back to back, in the midst of a huge group of monsters, and we kept one another covered from attacks. We cut down any monster that came too close, and, almost entirely due to him, we managed to destroy most of the horde that had attacked us.

He could have let me die, as I most certainly would have unaided, but he didn't. He saved me and, more importantly, Olympus itself. Because of this, I feel a twinge of guilt for even allowing myself to think that he has something to do with the current situation.

The other gods, even my friends and possibly Chiron, might accuse me of siding with him, but I truthfully don't think that his hand is in this. He might be responsible, but…

"Just because it's the Underworld, doesn't necessarily mean that it's Hades," I reply, defending the dark god.

Travis nods exaggeratedly.

"Yep. I mean, after all, there's Hades and Persephone and Hades and Thanatos and Hades and… Wait. Did I mention Hades?" he asks sarcastically, earning a smirk of approval from Theia.

All I can do is roll my eyes as I stop walking, forcing them to do the same, and turn to look at them both. I can see that they keep looking around me to the stairs. They're anxious to leave and get started, but we can't go anywhere until this issue has been resolved.

You can't just blame someone because they seem good for it. That's what always gets the Big Three in trouble. The blame game. You know, it's like a messed up version of that Barney song. 'I blame you, you blame me. We're an angry family. With a great big boom, oh, look I smited you. You can blame me for that, too.'

That's what almost started up a war between the gods themselves, rather than gods vs. titans. You must keep an open-mind to assess all possibilities. No matter how little you may like them, which is the only reason I have not completely ruled out Hades. I know it's possible that he did it, I'm just cautiously hopeful that he didn't.

"There's plenty of people… er, gods that could be responsible," I state, getting the two heroes' attentions. "Alastor, spirit of blood feuds and vengeance; the Anaideia, spirits of ruthlessness, shamelessness, and unforgivingness… Then, of course, there's the Arae, spirits of curses; Moros, spirit of doom, and," I see Travis open his mouth to argue the point, but I cut him off and start to turn. "And yes, Travis. Hades to— "

I stop as soon as I've turned all the way around, because as I turn I see someone stumble over the steps. The figure's very presence chills my bones due to the aura radiating off him.

But, after taking in his current state, my heart goes out to him.

He sees us and tries to take a step, but begins to pitch forward instead. Rushing toward him, I catch him, only barely managing to do so, and as soon as I have, I want to move away. Immediately upon having caught him, it feels as though my very life force is draining a little just from touching him, because the broken and battered form I am supporting is that of The Lord of the Dead himself.

Hades.

Even as golden blood begins to stain my skin and clothes, the weight of the rather brawny Olympian leaves me struggling to hold him upright. I know that any minute now, my legs will give out sending both Hades and I face first into the marble floor.

I glance at Theia and Travis whose eyes are wide and mouths are agape. I can see right now that they will be no help.

"Bench," Hades mumbles, barely managing to point at the seat over to the left.

Obviously, he had realized that even though I am 5'11", I have a rather small frame, and he doesn't.

Either he realized that or he read my mind and really didn't want to be dropped on his face.

I support/drag him to the bench, and then support him as he sits down. Upon looking over him, I notice that he's breathing heavily and looks much like a mortal would if they were running a fever: lost, dazed, and confused.

Speaking of lost, dazed, and confused, Travis and Theia finally recover enough to rush over and stand behind me, only after I'd somehow managed to get him to the bench. A lot of help they are. Maybe I _should_ have brought Nico. He would have been more than willing to help his dad.

"Dude, what happened?" Travis half exclaims, half questions.

Hades looks at him uncomprehendingly and so I decide to try a different approach.

I kneel down so that I'm relatively close to being face to face with the injured and hazy god; though even with him sitting on the bench and me kneeling, he's still much taller than me. Honestly, injured or no, I can't help but think that this might get me vaporized.

"Lord Hades," I say.

A second passes, then his eyes focus in on me, and he opens his mouth to speak.

"You are… that girl… from before… From the battle," he states, practically gasping for breath.

"Yes, Lord Hades. My name is Nakita. We want to help you," I reply, gesturing to Travis and Theia, who are still gawking. "What can we do?"

"Need… ambrosia or… nectar," he answers clearly in pain.

I sling my backpack from my shoulder and unzip it, immediately starting to rifle through its contents.

Finding the thermos of nectar first, I unscrew the lid and help him steady it as he drinks. Almost instantaneously, some of his strength returns. It is not much, but just enough that I don't have to help him, so I remove my hand from the thermos for fear of being incinerated.

After a moment, he puts the thermos down and leans back against the bench momentarily shutting his eyes. He still looks as though he is in pain, but not nearly as much as he was when we both almost took a nosedive into the marble walkway.

What seems like an eternity slowly ticks by before Hades opens his eyes, once more focusing in on me.

"Thank you," he says, sounding almost completely sincere.

"It's the least I could do," I reply, barely managing to smile.

He still doesn't look great and I can't help but wonder what had happened that the Lord of the Dead was in such condition to begin with.

He looks at me questioningly for a brief moment. Apparently, he is puzzled by my statement. After all, I can't imagine that many people are so kind to the god of the Underworld.

My theory is proved when his eyes take on a slight glow and a re-cap of the battle flashes in front of me. It's like a messed up movie projector, though, only showing certain fragments. Burning flames, shouting, blood, death. The images flash so quickly that my mind is almost overwhelmed until finally, the 'projector' settles on one particular scene:

Me surrounded by Kronos' hordes and then Hades appearing.

The scene plays out so vividly, I can almost hear the crackling of the fire somewhere off to the right where a car is burning, can almost feel my wounds leaking life-sustaining red everywhere. I almost have the urge to reach down to my side—what had been the worst of my injuries—and reassure myself that I am not bleeding.

The images continue until the last monster falls, then they stop.

Hades' eyes stop glowing and he nods knowingly, as if he suddenly remembers to what I had been referring.

Looking to me with a rather calculating stare, he replies, "Considering your… current status, I doubt it was the least you could do. And I think you may 'call it even' now if you wish."

I frown a little over his remark about my 'status', but I say nothing.

He obviously knows something more than I do, but I don't care. I have a father, whether my Olympian parent decides to claim me or no.

"So…" begins Theia, clearly trying to break the awkward silence. "What now?"

"I must get to the council room."

"Do you need our help?" I ask, receiving looks from both Travis and Theia. I send back a warning glare before returning my gaze to Hades.

"I do not require your help," Hades scoffs, barely managing to stand. He starts to take a step forward but then seems to hesitate before speaking once more. "However, you may need to hear what I have to say to my _dear_ brothers."

That having been said, he holds his elbow out to me as if to offer his arm. Knowing that he is doing so in the hopes that—without him having to ask for it—I will help him, I loop my arm through his in such a way that I am indeed supporting the Olympian, though none but him and myself know it. Travis and Theia just think that Hades and I both have lost our minds, him in trying to be 'gentlemanly', and me in that I am acting like a 'lady' for once.

Despite their reactions and the cold chill slowly travelling up my arm, it is without further delay that we all turn and begin the long walk to the throne room.

The walk is silent and seems a lot longer than it really is probably because, with Hades' weight on my arm, it feels like my shoulder is going to pull out of joint. Not to mention the cold chill that had started crawling up my arm was now covering most of that side of my body, and slowly trying to make its way over to the other side as well.

After what seems an eternity, we reach the doors of the throne room. Almost immediately we hear sudden loud and angry booms of thunder that sound quite similar to the camp's Fourth of July fireworks show. Quite honestly, I jump out of my skin at the sudden loud noise that seems to have come from directly overhead.

Hades gives me a questioning look, probably at my reaction. Of course, it wouldn't faze him; he's accustom to it by now, I'm sure. After all, it can only be startling for so many millennia before it just gets old.

"HADES!" bellows the voice that can only be Zeus.

The god looks from me to the door and frowns, clearly knowing Zeus is about to blame him for whatever has upset him. He returns his gaze to me and nods, withdrawing his arm and I feel like a weight has been lifted from me.

The manner in which I had been supporting him—trying to accommodate the fact that he would not want anyone to know that I was helping him—had put quite a bit of strain on my arm and shoulder.

As he steps forward, placing me out of his line of sight, I discreetly roll my shoulder, stretching to make it seem as though I am just stiff. Hearing a loud pop, I realize that my shoulder had indeed been on its way to being out of joint.

A quick look back at Travis and Theia tells me that they have not caught on and are instead quite busy staring nervously at the sky, most likely watching for lightning bolts.

I shake my head and roll my eyes, turning to look at the door, and Hades, once more.

He takes another step forward and begins to say something, in all likelihood the same phrase that Mr. D had said to open the doors, but he pauses and glances at us.

"He has probably gone into his true form. You three wait here and I will tell you when you may enter safely. Unless, of course, any of you wish to be seeing more of me," he adds drily.

The three of us nod mutely. Funny, I guess Travis and Theia find the idea of being incinerated and taking a one-way trip to the Underworld about as appealing as I do. Go figure. I thought I was the only one.

"Yeah, whatever you say. No incinerating for me. I am good… Yeah," Travis volunteers, laughing nervously.

Hades arches an eyebrow questioningly at Travis, probably wondering what on Earth is wrong with him, and I quickly speak.

"Yes, Lord Hades. We understand," I say for all of us.

"Good. Now turn the other way because I am going to open the doors."

We do so and behind us there's a supernova bright flash of light.

Obviously I can't turn to know for certain—I am alive, after all—but I'm relatively certain that Hades has gone into his true form as well. I suppose if I were him, I would want to be on equal ground when entering a warzone, too.

I hear Hades mutter the same phrase Mr. D had and then the doors opening.

For a split second, there is utter silence and then…

"You bellowed, dear brother?" questions Hades, his voice taking on an amplified stereo effect.

The doors close quickly, probably at Hades' command, but I don't even have to eavesdrop to hear inside.

"You dare to show your face here, Hades, after you have taken my two sons?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do not feign innocence, Hades! My sons, Hermes and Apollo! They are missing, as I am sure you know! I will not tolerate such an offense! You are in my domain now, brother!"

"So I gathered, but why do you think you can accuse _me_ of capturing your precious sons? This is the first I have heard of it."

Clearly Zeus does not like or believe this answer because he yells even louder than I thought possible for anyone.

"The newest Prophecy clearly states that the heroes must travel 'below'. That is YOUR domain!"

I can't help but think back to the little ditty I had composed earlier about the blame game the Olympians—especially the Big Three—seem so fond of, and it is all I can do to keep from humming it. Somehow, I think it would not go over well at the present.

"And so you assume it was me? Need I remind you how many other _things_ are in the Underworld?"

"Need I remind _you_, Hades," begins Zeus in a deadly calm tone that sends shivers down my spine, "what I can do to your son if mine are not returned quickly?"

There is a sudden crackle and the smell of ozone meets my nose. A gasp escapes me as I realize what Zeus means.

Nico.

"If you _dare_ harm my son, you declare war, and I will send my Furies to every. corner. of the _earth_, until they find your daughter, and I will make her suffer."

My eyes widen in shock.

Thalia.

How can the gods so ruthlessly threaten each other's children? How can they be so cold as to resort to this? Nico and Thalia have done nothing except exist and Zeus and Hades throw around each of their lives as if it is nothing.

"How dare—"

"Father! Uncle! Please," exclaims the usually calm, measured voice of Athena. "Let us discuss this rationally. Clearly, Father, Uncle has suffered greatly at someone's hands. Mark you how he stands? He is in pain. Perhaps his attacker and your kidnapper are one and the same. Let us sit and talk calmly and be at peace. In such grave situations as this, we must work together in harmony, not be snapping at each other's throats."

"Agreed," says Poseidon, speaking for the first time since we had arrived. "For once, I agree with Athena."

I know the situation to be very precarious as those words must have been hard for him to say. He only would have said such words if there was no way around it, if peace required them.

"Fine," Hades responds, clearly clenching his teeth in an effort to restrain other words from escaping.

"Very well," responds Zeus in much the same manner.

"Now, let us discuss the matter," speaks Athena.

"The heroes stand outside, waiting to be allowed entrance, dear brother," Hades spits, and I can almost hear in his voice the sneer that must be on his face. "Perhaps you could leave your true form long enough for them to enter and hear the news I bring."

There's another pause and then the doors open, though, I don't want to risk turning around until I am told it is safe. Carefully glancing to Theia and Travis on either side of me, I see that they are of the same mind.

"Enter heroes," Zeus orders, his tone dangerous.

"It is safe now," Hades adds, probably knowing that we are unsure if Zeus cares whether or not we are incinerated.

The three of us exchange quick glances before turning and walking inside. Don't want to further annoy any of them...

How does Percy constantly smart mouth them? I can't help but wonder if it's not that Poseidon gene, because not even Travis is smarting off at the moment.

The sight we are greeted with upon entering the room is that of five gigantic Olympians, four sitting in their thrones and Hades sitting by the hearth, all towering far above us.

"Heroes," Athena nods to us.

"Lady Athena, it seems we weren't able to get too far, yet," Travis says nervously, trying to force a smile, though it comes off as more of a grimace.

I wince.

Travis has this disorder where if people are upset or there's tension in a room, he has to make a joke or say some comment. He simply cannot help himself. His mind thinks it and then the words automatically spill out. No warning, no way to stop them. They just spill out, often times getting him in trouble.

Of course, that would have to happen now. Almost without thinking about it, I start praying that none of them vaporize him. It really isn't his fault, after all.

Thankfully, none of the rather irritated Olympians seems to have been further angered by his comment. In fact, based from the expression on Athena's face, I have a feeling that none of the five present wish to incinerate one of the missing gods' sons. What rather scares me is that Poseidon and Athena exchange an almost sad glance after looking between Travis and Theia.

At another glance around, they all stand and shrink down to 'normal' size. Now they're all only a few inches taller than Travis rather than several feet taller.

Having done so, Athena nods.

"No, I suppose you have not, but you have done wisely to return. I am sure what Uncle has to say will be knowledge you require," she finishes, turning to Hades, obviously signaling him to speak.

Hades throws a cold glance at Zeus, one eyebrow raised.

"May I speak in your presence, Brother?"

"Please do," Zeus answers, through clenched teeth.

"Thank you," Hades replies somewhat mockingly.

He pauses for a moment, and I'm almost certain I see him flinch in pain, but then it is gone again.

I look around, yet no one else seems to have noticed it so I am not entirely sure if I had truly seen it or if it had been a trick of the firelight dancing across his face. Whether his pain was real or imagined, noticed by anyone else or not, his extended pause is noticed.

"Well, Hades," Zeus demands gruffly. "What is this _urgent_ news?"

"I would not have come here had it not been necessary," he begins, once more pausing. This time I know I can't be imagining the flash of pain that flickers across his face before he continues. "I fear I have been left no choice. Clearly, the current matters and blame have been thrown onto my shoulders, but this is not my burden to bear."

I watch as Athena's eyebrows furrow in puzzlement.

"What do you mean, Uncle?"

As Hades opens his mouth to reply, his face suddenly contorts, and he drops to his knees.

"Brother!" Poseidon yells as he rushes forward, Zeus following with Athena and Mr. D not far behind.

I force my shock back and once more sling my backpack around. Dumping everything out on the ground, I find the thermos of nectar and quickly pick it up, dropping the backpack, and leaving everything else as it is on the ground.

I run toward them, unscrewing the lid of the thermos as I do. Carefully, so I don't get incinerated, I stop behind the one Olympian who might not kill me for interfering right now.

"Mr. D," I say softly, yet urgently, as I bow, looking down at the floor and holding the container out to him.

I glance up nervously, praying that he'll look at me before deciding to have grapevines eat the one who is interrupting at a time like this.

He turns in annoyance, but when he sees what I'm holding out to him, his expression seems to soften ever so slightly, and he nods as he takes it from me.

Without straightening, I back up, returning to my place between Travis and Theia, only then do I stand up straight. As I do so, Travis hands me my backpack. He had apparently replaced its contents during the point of time in which I had taken my life in my own hands. Children of Hermes. They just have to pack stuff. I think it's in the DNA.

The three of us watch in silent worry as Mr. D hands the thermos to Athena who helps Hades drink some of it while the other two Olympians look on, actually seeming concerned for their eldest brother; even Zeus, who had been threatening Hades' child not five minutes prior, appears to be worried.

Despite everything—brotherly competition, domain disputes, and family feuds—when one of their own goes down, they pull together. Almost as if by instinct, they realize that if one of them falls, it won't be long until all of them fall. Whether they like it or not, they all depend on one another. They all balance each other out. They all are part of a system. Yet, I also believe, maybe foolishly, that somewhere deep down they actually do care about one another, even if they would never admit to it.

"What were you saying, Uncle," Athena asks urgently as Hades takes in a labored breath.

"My domain… is not my own," he replies once more looking feverish, maybe even more so than he had when I had helped him earlier.

"What do you mean?" Poseidon questions, his brow knit with worry.

"I am not… in charge anymore…"

"Then who is?" Mr. D exclaims.

Hades' eyes take on a dark, hazy, almost haunted look as he tries to focus in on Mr. D.

"I… I don't know."

These words spoken, Hades seems to space out entirely and, for but a moment, the Olympians motionlessly sit in silence. Not much longer, though, and motion and sound is restored.

As Athena and Poseidon assist the disoriented Hades, Zeus summons Persephone. The sound of his wife's name seems to set Hades on edge because he starts mumbling about not allowing her to go back to the Underworld, not letting _them_ get her—whoever "_them_" are, not even Hades knows.

When Persephone finally appears in the door, it is clear that she is worried, and I have no doubt that over time, Persephone has learned to love her former kidnapper, even if only enough to worry for him now.

Upon the goddess of Spring seeing her husband in his current state, she rushes the rest of the way to him and kneels beside him. Not wanting to intrude on the moment, I look away. Moments such as these are not meant to be watched by outsiders, and certainly not by mere mortal eyes.

Only when I hear a lot of motion do I turn around. Persephone and Poseidon have each taken Hades between them, each with an arm across their shoulders, supporting him. As they assist him in leaving the room—most likely to the infirmary—my mind begins to wander.

I cannot speak for Theia and Travis, but for me it is really strange, borderline surreal, seeing one of the gods in such a condition. Normally when we demigods see them, they are powerful and imposing. Most demigods, with the exception of Percy Jackson, often are quite wary around them, oftentimes struck silent. You never know when one of them might randomly take a disliking to you and so it is a good idea to have most of them okay with you.

The difference between the usual invulnerability and the current state of affairs—Hades injured and two major gods missing—is somewhat alarming. If whatever's behind all these events can do this to the Olympians…. What could it do to us?

Involuntarily, I glance at Travis and Theia.

No matter what happens to me, they _will_ be okay. They _will_ return to Camp Half-Blood. They _will_ survive this quest. My own fate is unimportant to me. Whatever the Fates have in store for me will be my lot. It might take a while but Travis and Theia would move on and all would be okay.

Yet, as soon as I think this, another thought comes to my mind.

'_Be safe, Nakita. Be safe_.'

Chiron.

He might not be okay as quickly.

Suddenly, I wish the ancient trainer of heroes were here. He would know what to do. He would have the perfect plan, and he would have great insight into who—or what—is doing this. He would know.

But I'm also glad that he's not here.

Here is unstable. Here is dangerous. The thought of anything happening to him is intolerable.

Which is all the more reason for me to stay a strong leader and to accomplish the quest.

If anything happens to Olympus, Camp Half-Blood would once more become an army forced to save it at all costs. Many more campers would fall, and I do not want to see any more of my friends, my "family", fall again.

Just upon reaching this decision, I look up to see Athena staring at me as if she has been listening to my thoughts.

When she realizes that I have looked up at her, she smiles sadly before addressing Travis, Theia, and me.

"Heroes, it appears this quest shall be even more dangerous than at first thought. I am sure you realize this," she says, casting a quick glance at me. "I must ask if you wish to continue. If not, other heroes will be found, but know this: if you choose to continue, I am certain you will face many perils. Some may prove more than you think you are capable of overcoming. Therefore, before anything else is said, I must ask. Will you continue?"

I already have decided my own answer, and so I look to Theia who gives me a determined nod, and then to Travis whose mouth twists into a grim smile that looks so horribly out of place on his face. It just seems completely wrong.

Travis is not even supposed to possess such a smile, and suddenly I find myself remembering to a few years prior when that smile had first appeared, but thinking of the war now will do me no good. I must focus.

Forcing my mind from that line of thought, I return my attention to Athena.

"Yes, Lady Athena, we will continue."

Once more, she smiles, just as humorlessly as the last.

"Very well. Then you must journey to your next destination as foretold by the Prophecy."

"The Underworld," supplies Theia.

"Yes," she nods. "I do not know what awaits you once there, but I do know that you must be careful. Many dangers lurk in the Underworld."

"Like Cerberus…" Travis mutters slightly under his breath.

This time it is Mr. D who speaks, nearly startling me. I had almost forgotten he was still in the room.

"You heroes are worth absolutely nothing. I assure you, that three-headed mutt will be the least of your worries. Do you honestly consider Cerberus more of a threat than what has injured Hades so badly?" he snaps.

At this Travis' gaze fixes on the floor in a rather dejected manner, and I almost want to yell at Mr. D. Nothing Travis had said had merited that scolding. Nothing. He had not been saying that Cerberus would be the most dangerous, merely that it would be a danger and considering the fact that we don't know anything else of the situation, Cerberus is the only constant.

Apparently, catching the light in my eyes, Mr. D scowls.

"Do you wish to say something, Nakita?"

His voice is cold, challenging, his stare withering, and I force my own gaze to the ground. Ill-thought words will not help me in this moment.

"No, sir."

"Good."

Thus spoken, he exits the room, leaving Athena, the unusually silent Zeus, and the three of us to watch as he leaves.

Athena's frowning eyes stare at the door Mr. D had just exited before turning her gaze to us.

"Heroes. Do not mind Dionysus; he is merely worried, as we all are."

"But he is correct on one matter," says Zeus, speaking for the first time since Hades had left. "Cerberus is inconsequential to whatever has done this to Hades. It is very likely that the three of you will not survive this."

Gee, thanks, Zeus. That's definitely a confidence booster I need right now.

"But, since you will persist," Zeus continues, "you will do so with the gods' blessing. You will go to Hephaestus' forges here on Olympus, and he will outfit you with armor and do what he can for your weapons. Now, be on your way."

The three of us bow quickly and leave the room, intent on doing as we have been told.

With all that has happened and all we have heard, we will need every advantage we can have, and having armor given by Hephaestus seems a worthwhile advantage indeed.

* * *

**Already we have reached the point at which I had stopped before. I have been typing all of my corrections and additions in like a crazy person trying to get all of this posted again. **

**You can expect the NEW material within the next few days, if not tonight, if all goes well. ^_^**

**I really would love to get some feedback, from old or new readers, about how the story is going. Like I said, the basic principle is still there (for now) but I added a lot of details and changed stuff around so that it would read better. **

**I'd love to hear from whoever is reading. :)**

**~Kanae~**


	8. Liar

**A decent update time! Say it isn't so! It would have been up sooner but work and sickness were a pain, but I'm finally feeling better so hopefully that's the end of it. Haha. Hope you enjoy. :)**

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Chapter Eight: Liar

After a lot of running around, we finally locate the forges of Hephaestus. The fact that they are actually hidden behind the god of fire and forge's temple had made it a little more difficult to discover the location. Why the forges would be _behind_ his temple, I am not entirely certain, but…

The three of us practically sprint toward the forges we had worked so hard to find, only stopping when we reach the gigantic doors.

For a moment, I simply stare at the ornate metalwork on the doors. Celestial bronze flames dance across the entire surface, intertwining into an intricate flowing design. Looking more closely, I realize that the flames are all connected in one way or another, creating almost a chain of fire.

Before I can even knock, one of the doors swings inward, beckoning us into the building. Obviously, we are expected.

Without glancing at Travis or Theia, I take in one big breath and enter the forges, them stepping in behind me.

Immediately, I gasp. Walking into the forges is like walking into the Sahara Desert. I feel as though I have hit a wall of fire. All the moisture that's normally in the air is almost completely absent.

From my left, I hear a sharp intake of air, and instinctively, I turn just in time to see Travis' jaw tighten a little. Clearly, Travis is even more affected by the sudden onslaught than I am, but a quick glance at Theia tells me that she probably hasn't even noticed the sudden temperature change. Lucky daughter of the sun god…

Turning my attention to the room, I see a huge man with his back to us beating the daylights out of something.

"Lord Hephaestus?" Theia calls, her voice echoing in the cavernous room.

The man immediately turns a somewhat intriguing expression on his face and fire flickers tentatively through his dark beard.

"You three must be the heroes I was informed of. Well, don't just stand there gawking!" he exclaims. "Get in here and let me look at your weapons while your armor is cooling."

"You already made our armor?" Theia questions somewhat incredulously, voicing my own thoughts.

Hephaestus seems affronted and snorts.

"Of course I did! Did you all think I was going to wait for your three to finally stumble in here?"

We all exchange glances and then step forward quickly, not wanting to offend him.

The closer we talk to Lord Hephaestus the hotter it gets because we are surrounded by the working forges.

The temperature becomes just shy of unbearable, and I can feel a light sweat already breaking out all over my skin.

"Well, daughter of Apollo," Hephaestus begins, addressing Theia, "I suppose your weapons are fine what with _Ares_ blessing them and whatnot, but you two…" He trails off and appraises Travis and me, making me feel more than a little uncomfortable. "You two, however… I'll need to see your weapons."

As I reach down to unzip my pack, I realize the zipper is caught, and I have to look down to loose it.

"Ah, so you were the one," the blacksmith says knowingly. Something in his tone makes me look up immediately.

"The one?"

"The one that received Queen Hippolyta's weapon," he answers.

"What weapon?" the curious Theia inquires.

Not answering Theia, he instead keeps his steady, unwavering gaze on me as if he is examining me for flaws as he would what he crafts and continues, "Chiron begged a favor of me, to allow your use of that. I assure you, I would not have surrendered that to just any demigod, but it seems that Chiron does think quite highly of you. Do not disappoint."

"I…" Truly. I am nearly speechless. Chiron had _begged_ a favor of Hephaestus… ? For me? Recalling my earlier conversation with the trainer of heroes via Iris message and assimilating this newest information, I almost tear up again. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that I don't and the forges' heat didn't just evaporate it instantly.

He had taken care of me again. Never saying a word hinting to what he had done. Never asking for thanks or credit, just doing it so that he knew he had done his best to protect and help me, to get me safely back to camp. Chiron, I swear on the river Styx, if I _do_ get out of this alive, you will never again doubt whether or not I appreciate everything you do for me.

I will not complain or mope about being unclaimed anymore. Having a father—adoptive or no—that cares as much as to call in a favor with the gods, _that_ is something of which not everyone has the benefit. In fact, I would daresay almost _no one_ has a father that amazing.

After a brief pause, I force my voice to remain even as I nod and respond. "I will not, Lord Hephaestus."

With that, he nods.

"Well, well, well. Your weapon will not need any further blessing, but your arrows," he says, looking at me, then to Travis, "And your knives and sword need blessing, so give them to me."

I immediately surrender my arrows to him and then glance to Travis.

Rather uncharacteristically, he seems to be clumsily fumbling with the zipper of the duffel bag. I say uncharacteristically because children of Hermes are deft with anything concerning their hands. Pick-pocketing, lock-picking, safe cracking. You name it. Now he's fumbling to unzip a bag?

But at last, he manages it and holds the sword and knives out to Hephaestus who takes them, and then turns his back to us once more.

I stand observing for several minutes until I feel a weak tug on my T-shirt sleeve and hear a very dry, croak of a voice.

"K-Kita, I feel like…"

Barely have I turned to him before I have to throw my arms out to catch him.

Touching him, his skin feels like it is on fire.

I curse—none too quietly—before cautiously but quickly lifting him over my shoulder and sprinting toward the open doors, Theia following closely behind me.

Once outside, I set him down on the warm pavement of the courtyard that leads into the forges. This would mean the change in temperature is not drastic enough to put him into shock, but enough that we can try to gradually cool him.

As soon as I have safely set him down, I once more empty my backpack and find one of my water bottles. Unscrewing the lid, I can't help but wonder at how _incredibly_ well this quest has gone so far. Two missing gods, one injured god, fights, and now this? I will not _even_ ask what is next.

I begin to shuffle through the scattered items from my backpack searching for a cloth of some sort so that I can pour water on it and put it on his forehead to cool him. Just as I have begun to rummage, however, I feel someone's hand on my shoulder. Immediately, I turn to see a very surprising sight.

"Asclepius?"

Standing slightly behind me to my right is Asclepius, the son of Apollo who was elevated to god status a long time ago when the gods were still in Greece. Yeah, he was just _that_ impressive. Nowadays, you can find him at Camp Half-blood as the camp medic. The exact reason I am so surprised.

"Shouldn't you be at camp?" asks Theia.

At this he only smiles. "I can be wherever I want to be, silly. Need some help?"

I merely nod, stand, and step back allowing Asclepius to kneel beside Travis. While he works on him, I turn to Theia with a sigh.

"This has started _so_ well."

"So _very_ well," she snorts, crossing her arms.

"So, little sis," Asclepius starts glancing over his shoulder with bright blue eyes focusing directly on his 'sister', "surprised to see me?"

"A little," she replies. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I heard about dad from Chiron and came here to see if anyone else knew any more details. Athena informed me that you three were still here and I decided to see if I could catch you before you left Olympus."

"Why?" questions Theia, entirely confused. "They know as much as we do, so there was no reason to come find us. We can't tell you any more than they did."

At this, he turns, a nearly hurt look on his face. I say nearly because there is the barest hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Why?" he repeats, standing. "_Why?_ Because you didn't tell big brother that you were leaving!"

With that he almost strangles my shorter friend in a hug.

Contrary to what most people would believe, she actually doesn't try to get away from him. As 'openly'—not inwardly, I suspect—'dislikes' her father, she really does look up to Asclepius. Out of all her siblings, including Will, Asclepius is the one she gets along with the best.

"You're… going… to kill me!" she laughs at last.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry!" he declares, quickly releasing her. "Just wouldn't do to asphyxiate you."

"Maybe you should have become another god of poetry instead of doctors and medicine. You do a better job at it."

As they continue to talk, I kneel beside Travis once more.

I _assume_ by the fact that Asclepius has completely forgotten him that Travis will be alright now. Touching his arm, I not that his skin no longer feels like it is burning so I take this as a good sign.

Returning my attention to the two children of Apollo who are talking to each other as if no one else is present, I feel a slight pang in my chest again. A father, I most certainly have, but I still have no idea where I belong in the camp. I realize that without knowing the identity of my Olympian parent, I cannot know who my brothers and sisters are, if there are any at all. Once again, I feel a little down and sigh.

It is not because of the Olympian issue, per se. As I concluded earlier in the forges, I am through with moping over that. No. This is the loss of belonging, having siblings with whom to talk. I don't think _anyone_ except orphans ever really understand the loneliness felt by orphans. Some people try to empathize, but they just can't entirely comprehend it. We're always left wondering why we were given up? Did they want us? Are they still alive? So many questions. I'm luckier than most. I at least have some partial answers.

Knowing that I am a demigod, there is a ninety nine point nine percent chance that at least _one_ of my parents is still alive, which is more than most kids know. That, however, leaves the questions does that parent want me—as Chiron seems so convicted of—and if so, why that parent has not yet claimed me.

A low, quiet groan from beside me tears me from my thoughts, and I immediately look down to see Travis' eyelids flutter open and his eyes meet mine. For a moment, we only stare at each other until he speaks.

"What happened…?"

"You overheated and passed out."

Still lying down, he turns his head left, then right before turning to me again.

"How did I get out here?"

Obviously, he's still a little disoriented. Only a little, but still...

"I carried you."

"Oh… Okay," he replies sitting up at last.

Another several minutes pass in silence before we both realize something.

Somewhere in the course of my internal dialogue my hand, which had been resting on his arm, had made its way down—without _any_ consent from me—to Travis' hand…

And somewhere in the course of him waking up or him sitting up, his hand had closed around mine..

We are holding hands…

We both stare somewhat awkwardly down at our clasped hands…

And then we both simultaneously release each others' hands and move them away. I quickly look down at my lap where my hands are now resting. I can't help but assume that my face looks like a tomato.

Why was that so weird?

"Well, I see that someone is awake," chimes the bright voice of Asclepius.

Both Travis and I immediately look to him. I, for one, am happy for the distraction.

"Uh, yeah… I guess I should thank you, right?"

"Oh, not me. I only healed you. Nakita there carried you outside and she was already starting on getting you cooled down when I showed up and volunteered to help."

Directing my gaze downward once more, I can feel a pair of blue eyes on me.

"Anyway," sighs Asclepius. "I guess you guys better get going, hmm? But! Not before I donate to your quest!"

Now I raise my eyes once more, curious.

"You're going to help?" my ever inquisitive young friend asks.

"Of course! He's my dad, too!" he proclaims loudly, as a small, plastic box with a red cross on the lid appears out of thin air and falls into his upturned palm. After grasping the container, he passes it to Theia. "For you, little sister. Go on. Take a look."

She opens it, looking confounded. "An empty medical kit?"

"Yes," he beams, clearly quite proud of himself for whatever reason.

"… _Empty_?" she repeats, an eyebrow rising.

"Just hold onto it, 'kay? It could prove useful someday down the road, kiddo," he winks.

"…. O… kay…" she replies at last, opening her backpack, placing the empty medical box inside and then closing it.

"Well, that's my little contribution to you guys. Just hope everything turns out for the best… I'd hate for anything to happen to dad, especially after everything he did for me. I mean, he did kinda bring me back after Zeus smited me…" Asclepius frowns, looking worried.

"Don't worry," I interject standing and then assisting Travis in doing the same. "We're going to find Lord Apollo _and_ Lord Hermes."

"And bring them back safely, yes?"

"Duh," Theia replies, rolling her eyes. "What kinda heroes do you think we are?"

At this, the doctor-god grins from ear to ear. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear! I'm sure they'll be back in no time with that mindset! Hades! Dad may even be driving the sun chariot again by tomorrow. I may not control prophecies or see the future, but I'm sure you guys will be just fine! Just remember to hold onto my gift."

"I will…" Theia answers. She seems to be pondering what good an empty med kit is—and I can't say my mind is employed any differently—but for once she is hiding her skepticism well.

"Alright. Peace out then," he smiles and with the he begins to glow. We all turn away until we are certain he is gone. Only when we are certain do we look toward the forges.

Emerging from the dark, fiery depths of the forges, Hephaestus approaches us carrying armor that I can only assume is ours along with a satchel slung over on arm.

"Well… Your chest plates are ready and your weapons are, too, but helmets will take too long to craft so you'll just have to do with this."

He hands Theia her armor and then hand mine to me, but when he holds armor out to Travis, I quickly reach out and take it instead.

Travis still seems a little shaky and I'm not really sure that holding the armor is the best idea right now…

Hephaestus appears perplexed but a moment before nodding in understanding with an "Of course" tacked onto the action for good measure.

I set my chest plate down long enough to help Travis put on his own and then I do the same as Theia dons her armor. That done, Hephaestus retrieves my arrows from the leather satchel I had observed as he walked toward us. I take them with a nod while with the other hand he gives Travis his sword and knives.

"Thank you, Lord Hephaestus," I say, smiling as I return my weapons to where they belong.

"Hu-hum. Yes… Well…" he replies, seeming awkward and uncomfortably out of place. Kind of like how Clarisse would look at a fancy cotillion for a prep school. "Well… Then, I think you can leave now."

Thus spoken, the god of fire and forges turns and quite nearly flees. Honestly, he seems as though he is not at all comfortable around people. From the moment we entered his forges, he had seemed almost like he wanted to run far away to one of his other workshops.

"To the Underworld we go…" Theia states noisily exhaling.

"Yep…" replies Travis, shoulders slumping.

Seeing both of them, they appear to be already weighted down by what awaits us. As much as I want to be a great leader and bring them out of it, want to say something to cheer them up and inspire them, I'm not sure I'm that talented a liar.

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**Well, thanks for reading. The story has now begun into the new material. Hope you guys liked it. ^_^**

**~Kanae~**


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